


Ten Days And Counting

by wrotetheother51



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: AU where Burr isn't a total dick to Alex, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Character Death, F/M, FIC NOT FOR THE FAINT HEARTED, Falling In Love, First Meetings, GOOD AND BAD ENDING, Hallucinations, Heartbreak, Hospitalization, I promise, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, LITERALLY, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, OKAY IVE FIGURED OUT HOW I WANT THIS TO GO, Optional Ending, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychosis, Recovery, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Soulmates, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNING, This story is pretty heavy but i swear to u it will get better, YOU control who lives who dies and who tells the story, dont say i didn't warn you, eliza is a sweet angel, everyone is sad tbh, jefferson is an ass, only in the bad ending tho, rip my cinnamon roll im sorry i killed u off
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2018-11-18 18:34:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 26,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11296413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrotetheother51/pseuds/wrotetheother51
Summary: The clock on Alexander's wrist had stopped counting down long ago.He had learned that his soulmate, a beautiful young woman named Eliza, had passed away. For the past 3 years, the numbers on his clock had been stuck on the same time.[0000 d 02 h 05 m 23 s]It haunted him every day of his life.Until one day, his clock suddenly restarted, and it began to count down once more.[0010 d 03 h 52 m 16 s]"But Eliza is gone,"he thought.Who could his soulmate possibly be?





	1. Reset

**Author's Note:**

> Soulmates AU! 
> 
> Everyone is born with a clock of sorts on their wrists that counts down to the moment they meet their soulmate. 
> 
> just to clear it up: if the clock stops, your soulmate has died.

Everyone is born with a clock on their wrist that counted down the days, hours, minutes, and even seconds to the day you met your soulmate.  
Your clock is a very important part of you that you see every single day, and meeting their soulmate, watching the last second strike zero, was something that everyone looked forward to. 

Alexander remembers the day so vividly.  
From the moment he opened his eyes, he could feel his heart flutter and his stomach fill with butterflies. Today was the day he would meet his soulmate. His clock had been counting down to today all his life; he watched every second tick away from the moment he was born. The past few weeks, it seemed to be all he could even think about. He wondered what they would be like; tall, short, dark, light, heavy, thin, male or female. He knew that whoever it was, he would instantly fall for them. It would be the start of a whole new life, a new journey with whomever he was destined to be with. It certainly would be quite an adventure. 

If he was honest with himself, he wasn't very sure if he was ready for that. 

He had barely slept all night and quickly dressed himself, tying his dark hair into a ponytail. However, he decided last minute to throw on something nicer, searching through his entire wardrobe for a good 8 minutes before finally choosing something. He donned his best black dress pants and a nice deep green shirt, accompanied by a black tie. He _was_ a college professor, but he usually didn't care to put this much thought into his outfits every single day, as most of the time he simply threw on the first shirt and the first tie his hand managed to grab. As he finished up straightening himself up, he checked his clock every minute as if it were a ritual. 

**[0000 d 04 h 02m 55 s]**

He took in a shaky breath as he gathered his materials, prepared to head to work. He grabbed his keys from the hook beside the front door, stepping outside into the brisk morning air. The sky was a hazy blue, still painted with the soft pastels of the rising sun. Alexander smiled gently, mentally preparing himself for the day that lay ahead. He couldn't tell if the sickly feeling in his stomach was from anxiety or from excitement, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized he didn't want to know. Something just didn't feel right.

All was going smoothly until he noticed something wrong in the middle of a lecture. His students seemed to pick up his unease and noticed that something wasn't right either; they saw how he kept checking his clock. Murmurs grew amongst the crowd as they watched him, their eyes burning into him as he kept checking every few seconds, expressions of confusion and alarm on full display.  
_No, no... No no no..._  
"Mr. Hamilton, is everything alright?" A student asked.  
He began to mumble to himself, repeating the word "no" as if it were a prayer. He uttered it with such fear, such a heavy heart, that it broke the hearts of those who saw his pitiful state.  
"What's wrong? What's happening?" Another student chimed.  
"The clock... It's stopped," he weakly said, more or less to himself. He shook his head, quickly rushing out of the door and into the hallway. He didn't know where he was running to. He just knew that he had to.  
The numbers on the clock remained paused.  
**[0000 d 02 h 05 m 23 s]**  
No...  
Why wasn't it changing?  
Why would it stop?  
_How_ could it stop?

Before he knew it, he had made his way to the office. Maybe someone inside could tell him. He pushed open the heavy door, about to burst, when he overheard a number of his colleagues conversing, seemingly in a panic as they bustled and rushed about the room. One of his coworkers, Eleanor Fletcher, was making her way towards him.  
"Oh, Alexander, good. We're going to need you to cover a class today," she explained, way too serious for his liking. His brow creased as he looked at her, awaiting an explanation as to why. "A new professor, miss Elizabeth Schuyler, she..." she sighed heavily. "She was in an accident this morning. She... She didn't make it. She wasn't supposed to arrive until a little later today..."

Alexander couldn't hear anymore.  
He could feel his heart sink. 

He learned later that day that Elizabeth's own clock, which stopped instantly at her death, read the same as Alexander's.  
He wasn't a fool.  
He knew he had lost her.  
Even among the sympathetic smiles and the condolences and support, he felt so...  
Alone. 

Ever since that day, he hasn't been the same. He felt incomplete. Depressed. He hated looking at his frozen clock. He tried his hardest to cover it, but the reminder was always there, of his dear Elizabeth. It would always be there to torment him. He never knew her, but he felt the pang. He felt the heartbreak. He mourned her. 

It had been three years of the same thing. But this morning was different. Alexander was about to get in the shower. He sighed heavily as he removed the bandage he covered his clock with, not wanting to see the painful reminder again, but was absolutely taken aback by what he saw. He felt instantly light headed, and almost worried he would faint.  
It couldn't be...

The clock now read a brand new time, and he watched with tears welling in his eyes as the numbers ticked down. 

**[0010 d 03 h 52 m 16 s]**

He had another soulmate...

And thus begins the countdown. 

Ten days until they meet.


	2. 10 days left

10 days and counting. 

Alexander could have sworn he was dreaming as he lay in bed, staring intensely at his clock as the numbers simply ticked away. They counted down like Elizabeth never existed. The mere thought of forgetting her scared him a great deal. 

Alexander had always tended to blame himself for Elizabeth's tragic death. He knew in reality that there was no way he could have stopped it, but he continuously berated himself for it. He should have been there for her.   
But he wasn't.   
The love of his life had been snatched away from him before he even had the chance to see her.   
He had taken the time to learn about her and even spent time with her family, remembering his first day visiting the Schuyler home shortly after the accident. He remembers the first time he saw her picture in the grand living room, hung up on the wall in a simple frame. She was beautiful, with sleek, black hair, dark eyes, and such a gentle smile. He remembers speaking to her sisters, her father, her mother, always thinking _"This would have been my family."_  
But they weren't.   
He remembers the funeral. He remembers walking slowly up the aisle to the casket, seeing the young woman laying lifeless in a flowing dress. His dear, beautiful Eliza was cold.   
Pale.   
Unmoving.   
He remembers the walls closing in on him, as he slowly began to lose his grip on reality. He was shaking. He was shaking so hard. He felt like he was choking as he whispered to her.   
_"I'm so sorry, Eliza... I wasn't there for you..."_

He placed a careful kiss to her forehead, hoping, _praying_ she would come back to him. He opened his tearful eyes and observed her still features, knowing she wouldn't be coming back.   
Alexander burst into tears. 

 

He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as these memories replayed over and over again in his mind, to the point where he couldn't cry anymore. He had run out of tears to shed. His head was pounding as sobs still racked his body, his repetitive thoughts of self-hatred eventually lulling him into an exhausted sleep.   
And he began to dream. 

He was alone, surrounded by white. 

"Alexander," a voice softly called to him. He didn't recognize it. 

"Alexander, look at me," the voice called once more. He glanced about, no one in sight, before he turned around. 

And there she stood. 

Elizabeth. 

She wore the same flowy nightgown she was buried in, but this time her face was full of color and her eyes were warm and filled with love. Alexander felt his heart shatter a million times over as he looked at her.   
Her, his sweet Eliza.   
He ran to her, enveloping her in his arms, afraid to let go, afraid that if he did, she'd disappear forever.   
He began to cry.   
_She_ began to cry.   
This was all he ever wanted. She pulled away from him, looking in his eyes tenderly with a sad smile. 

"There is nothing wrong with you," she whispered. "There is someone else out there for you. Please, Alexander, do not blame yourself. I want to see you happy," she explained, holding him as he fell apart in her arms. He didn't want someone else.  
"But I want _you,"_ he sobbed. She stroked his hair gently, before tilting his head up to look at her. The tears trailing down her cheeks broke his heart even more. He couldn't control his sobs. The guilt was too much for him to handle. How could he be so weak in front of her?

"I have been with you all these years. I always will be! I will always love you, Alexander," she cried. "That will never change! But there is a new soul out there that will love you like I never could. Please," she nearly begged.   
_"Don't push him away."_

Alexander's eyes snapped open as his eyes frantically darted around the room. His face felt wet. Had he cried in his sleep? He turned his head and noted the soft glow of sunlight that poked in through his curtains. He looked down at his clock, taking a shaky breath. 

**[0009 d 20 h 43 m 57 s]**


	3. 9 days left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Alexander panics and ends up hurting himself. There's no detail, but it's still there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JUST WANTED TO SAY THAT I SAW @a_mind_at_work BOOKMARKED THIS AND I GOT SO EXCITED I SCREAMED AND FREAKED OUT FOR A GOOD 12 MINUTES HELLO I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND I ADMIRE YOUR WRITING AND EVERYONE SHOULD GO READ THEIR STUFF ALRIGHT OK

Alexander was quickly making his way down the hallway, headed to the break room for lunch.  
Or... What usually _would_ be his lunch.  
He felt so nervous that he doubted he could eat anything. He was barely able to focus on teaching, let alone focus on taking care of himself properly. He hardly cared for his own hygiene this morning, showering lazily for maybe 5 minutes and haphazardly getting dressed, not even realizing he had his shirt on inside out until his coworkers pointed it out when he arrived this morning. He, however, was too drained to be embarrassed. He simply blinked at them, a dead look in his eyes, before continuing his day.  
It was going to be a long one. He knew that much.  
His students also began to notice his subtle change in presence. They were used to his energy, his debates, his feisty temper. Where had their professor gone? It was like a whole other man was there. They saw his eyes, which constantly wandered down to the ticking clock on his skin as he talked. They were used to him avoiding looking at it. He would forget his words in the middle of a sentence, or forget who he was talking to. He would space out for longer than was appropriate, creating a rather uncomfortable silence that had everyone on edge. But the worst of all? He would go quiet. 

Alexander Hamilton _never_ went quiet. 

He sighed, his hand smoothing out his hair as he stepped into the much to bright break room. His colleague, Hercules Mulligan, sat near the window with a steaming cup of coffee and a rather large stack of papers he seemed to be grading. Noticing the new presence in the room, he looked at Alexander with a warm smile that quickly fell as he took him in. He looked exhausted. Sad. Alexander was hoping he would be alone, as most of the other professors simply ate in their rooms. He was about to turn around and run far away, away to a place where he could be left alone with his thoughts, but right as he tried to make a break for it, right as he swung the door open and took a single step, a large hand had grabbed a firm hold on his arm. _So close._  
"Sit," Hercules simply said, though it sounded like more of a command. Alexander sighed heavily, the floor suddenly becoming very interesting as he refused to look up. He refused to move, or speak, for that matter. He didn't want to sit. He didn't want to talk. "Alexander," Hercules began, "I know something isn't right. I want to help you." Alexander paused, unable to find the words. How in God's name did he explain all of this? Where should he even begin? His mind was a hurricane of thoughts. He simply pulled up his sleeve, revealing the newly ticking clock on his arm. That seemed to speak volumes.  
He was too weak to fight back as Hercules dragged him over to sit, leaving the door open.  
He had no choice but to talk.  
He could feel the emotions boiling inside of him, and he tried so hard to hold back. _Bite your tongue,_ he told himself. 

"Your clock... Reset?" 

And so the storm began. Alexander could feel the tears welling quickly in his eyes as he fell apart. He couldn't get the words out, so he simply nodded. Why was this happening to him? He desperately tried to hide his face to save himself the embarrassment. Hercules was nothing but supportive, rubbing reassuring circles into his back.  
"There's something wrong with me," Alexander unknowingly whispered. "There has to be. I don't want to forget her, Herc. And I... I dream of her."  
Shit.  
Shouldn't have said that.  
He couldn't stop himself from rambling. His brain screamed at him over and over, _Shut up, Hamilton! Shut up!_ "She spoke to me, she told me not to blame myself, b-but I can't! I don't deserve another soulmate," he cried. He was beginning to feel angry at himself. He knew Eliza wouldn't want him to say these things, and now he knew that he was only letting her down.  
That's all he ever knew how to do anyway, was disappoint people. Alexander shook his head with a dark laugh, looking at Hercules with puffy, cold eyes. "I didn't save her. I could have been there. I lost her, and now my clock has reset. Something's wrong with me," he repeated.  
"Something's wrong with me."  
He shook his head harshly before rushing out of the room. He didn't know where to go, he just needed to be alone. But right as he pushed through the door, he ran straight into someone, almost losing his balance and crashing to the floor. He was about to apologize before he looked up, instantly recognizing the curly hair, signature know-it-all grin and the small, sickly man that trailed mindlessly behind him like a stray dog.  
_Jefferson. Madison._  
Alexander really didn't have time for this.  
He regained his balance, hoping they wouldn't see his tear stained face, hoping he could just run away without any confrontation.  
Of course, that simply wasn't the case.  
They had heard everything.  
They knew. 

"You know, Hamilton, you're right. You don't deserve someone else," Thomas laughed. Despite Alexander thinking the exact same thing, hearing it confirmed from someone else was like being stabbed in the chest. He couldn't understand why it hurt so bad... He began to walk in the opposite direction, wanting to get as far away from them as possible. 

"I knew her, you know," Thomas hissed. 

Alexander froze. He knew Elizabeth...?

"She deserved so much better than you."

He felt the stab in his chest.  
She did, didn't she...  
Jefferson glared at him in pure disgust. 

"I really wish you could have died instead of her. No one needs you." He was glad his back was to them, so they couldn't see the tears that were quickly falling from his eyes. "Now we have lost one of the most wonderful women in the world, yet we're stuck with you? A vile, bastard immigrant?" He laughed as he observed Alexander, with sinister eyes, who looked like a deer in headlights. His mind had gone blank as he stared at the wall. Alexander's hands trembled. He felt far away. He was dissociating. 

"God, if it weren't for the law, I'd kill you myself if I had the chance."

Alexander collapsed to the floor, feeling like he was going to be sick at any moment. Horrible thoughts began to swim around his mind. Horrible, tragic, invasive thoughts. He could imagine Jefferson's scoff as he spoke. 

"James. Let's go."

Alexander remained on the ground, breathing hard and ragged as he began to panic. He really was just a burden. All his self loathing thoughts were confirmed. He wished in that moment he could give his life if it meant Elizabeth would come back. The world didn't need him. No one did.  
He felt disgusting.

"Mr. Hamilton?" He heard some students call. They sounded so distant... He barely heard their footsteps rushing towards him. He could make out muffled voices and he could vaguely feel people grabbing him, making him sit upright. He could've sworn he heard Hercules there, somewhere, but he was too far away to care.  
_Die. Die. Die. You're worthless._  
"Someone go to the Health Services office! Get the nurse!" Hercules called. "Alexander, I'm taking you home." He firmly spoke. Alexander snapped. His eyes were dark.  
"Don't touch me..."  
"But-"  
"NO!" He yelled, violently pulling away from his touch. The stunned, terrified students went completely silent. "I can make it home by myself..." He said, standing up a little too quickly. His vision blurred more than it did from the tears and he felt dizzy as his ears started ringing. He shrugged it off as he bolted away from them, ignoring their calls as he rushed out of the main doors and towards his car. 

 

He didn't remember the drive home. He just remembers being in the hallway, and suddenly being back in his dark room. It felt as though someone was beating him over the head with a mallet. Memories of earlier that day began to come back to him.  
Jefferson's words had torn into him, and he hated himself for being so weak in front of him. In front of his students. _He's right,_ a voice within him said. _You should just die. No one needs you. You don't deserve happiness. You don't deserve love._ Alexander could feel the panic slowly wash over him again, along with a burning rage. He despised himself. He was so stupid. So, so stupid. Bad thoughts were beginning to return to him as he looked at the numbers embedded on his wrist. They still counted down like nothing was wrong in the world. He gritted his teeth sharply as he ran to his bathroom.  
He didn't want to see those godforsaken numbers anymore.  
He dug in his cabinet for a razor, pressing the cool metal to the skin of his wrist. 

He grimaced in pain.  
He just wanted his clock to go away.


	4. 8 days left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> INSANE TRIGGER WARNING: DESCRIPTIONS OF SELF HARM AND BLOOD!!!! THIS CHAPTER IS HEAVY

He didn't remember falling asleep, but he could clearly remember the reasoning behind the sharp stinging pain he woke up with in his wrist.  
His eyes shifted down, gazing upon the bloodied bandage that wrapped around his wound. He sighed, wincing slightly as he unraveled the stained fabric, about to glance at his clock, hoping it would be miraculously gone. 

But of course, the clock was still there, and its numbers still continued to count down, despite the jarring, scarily large red line that split horizontally through the middle.  
Alexander hadn't meant to cut that deep. 

**~~[0008 d 15 h 25 m 43 s]~~ **

He tried to calm the anger he felt burning in his very chest as he lightly traced the wound with his fingertips. He had never hurt himself on purpose before, and he began to think about how it made him feel. He didn't know what came over him that made him do it, but he didn't exactly hate it.  
He felt completely empty. His mind and heart were in a void of anguish, a pit of nothingness, and the pain made him feel something. Something he deserved. Part of him even enjoyed being hurt.  
A _big_ part of him.  
He fantasized about it as he lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling; images of the bleeding lines that would litter his arms. He could imagine the sting, the feeling of total release as blood dripped down his arm. 

And he began to feel urges. 

Urges to grab the bloodied razor off of the bathroom counter. 

Urges to press the sharp piece of metal to his skin. 

Urges to see red. 

He lay there in bed, wriggling and tossing about uncomfortably. The urges were like an itch, making his skin crawl with every passing moment. _Do it,_ the voice within him spoke. _You know you want to._ It was so tempting.  
_Maybe if you press hard enough, you won't wake up._  
He found himself walking towards the bathroom once more, blissfully unaware he was even doing so. It was as if all his actions were mechanic as the razor made its way back to his skin.  
One cut turned to two, and two to three, and three to four, and he kept going until there were seven new, rather large wounds on his arm. He dropped the razor in the sink as he simply stared at the angry red lines. He smiled contentedly as he watched the red drip on the white counter top, though his eyes were still cold and emotionless.  
He was tired.  
So, so tired. 

\--

Alexander arrived at work, making a beeline straight to his classroom. He wanted to avoid everyone he possibly could so as not to raise any suspicion, especially Hercules. He didn't feel like answering questions or coming up with some kind of excuse for his behavior yesterday, instead just wanting to be left alone. He went to turn the corner when he heard voices. He skidded to a halt, listening to see who was there.  
"Something must have happened, but I just don't know what... He's not in the right state of mind, sir."  
"And none of the students present had seen anything?"  
"According to them, no. When they arrived, he was already collapsed on the floor."  
Alexander's breath got caught in his throat. Hercules was talking to the University president, George Washington.  
And they were talking about him.  
He could feel the panic begin to surface as he quickly turned on his heel, taking an alternate route to his classroom as quickly as possible. He felt so scared. What if he lost his job? He had worked so hard to get to where he was now. He would be absolutely ruined if he was fired. He rushed to the door and over to his desk, laying everything out that he needed for today. So long as no one tried to inquire about yesterday, he would be fine.  
_I'm fine,_ he reassured himself.  
_**I'm ~~n o t~~ fine.**_

 

His class was rolling along fine. None of the students were pressing for information, but Alexander could tell by their sad looks that word had quickly spread of his incident. That's how it always was in schools; news gets around. Rumors spread. God only knows what was circulating around campus, but he didn't care enough to find out. He just wanted the day to end, so he could finally go home and... _Cope._

It all went downhill as he reached his arm up to point at something written on the board during his lecture.  
"Professor?" A student called up.  
"Yes, miss Lewis?"  
"Is... Your arm bleeding?"  
Alexander looked down, and sure enough, his bandage had slipped, and the sleeve of his white dress shirt was staining red. He grabbed it quickly, covering it with his hand as he nervously cleared his throat.  
"Ah, yes, thank you... I'll tend to that later." He said. _Damn it, Hamilton, why did you wear a white shirt?_ he internally cursed.  
"Professor," a new voice called. A deeper one. Alexander looked over towards the door and felt his stomach drop.  
President Washington.  
"May I have a word with you? Ms. King will take over for your class." Alexander smiled weakly at the woman in question, who stood just beside George with a polite smile. Alexander nodded slowly, letting out a shaky breath.  
"Yes, sir. Of course."  
He stepped out into the hallway, his heart racing.  
_This is it. You've fucked everything up,_ his inner voice screamed. _You're such a no-good, worthless, vile-- ___  
"Is your arm alright?"  
"Yes. Fine, sir."  
"May I look at it?"  
Alexander stalled. What should he do? He couldn't let him see the mess he made of his own arm. He could feel his throat constricting as anxiety flooded his system. "It's only a scratch, sir. It's fine," he insisted. Washington became suspicious.  
"Mr. Hamilton. Show me your arm."  
"I..."  
"Now."  
Alexander slowly removed his hand from where it covered the bloodied patch on his shirt. The patch had grown larger than it was just minutes ago. He would have to trash this shirt later; there was no way that stain was ever coming out. His hand shook as he grabbed his sleeve and rolled it up. His entire arm was wrapped in gauze, except for the upper half where it had unraveled, revealing the deep bleeding cut that was very obviously self-inflicted. Alexander refused to look up.  
"Son, can you tell me what happened to your arm?"  
Alexander searched through every file within his mind for some kind of story, some convincing lie, but he was taking far too long. He blurted out a random answer, but instantly regretted doing so.  
"I, uh--This morning, I accidentally gashed my arm while... While cooking?"  
_Nice one, Hamilton._  
"You and I both know that that isn't true," Washington warned. "Now I'll give you one last chance. Can you tell me what happened?"  
Alexander was overcome with guilt. He had no choice. 

__"I... I did it, sir."_ _

___The silence that ensued was choking him._  
He didn't dare meet his boss' eyes, and instead his eyes had locked onto his still outstretched arm. Washington said nothing, instead reaching out and cautiously unwrapping the remaining gauze, revealing all eight perfect red lines. Seven were fresh, George noted, and one--the one running directly through his newly ticking clock--was older. He frowned as he observed the wounds.  
_"Why would you do such a thing to yourself?"_ George asked sadly. "Why has your clock reset? Is... Is that why you did this?"  
Alexander began tearing up. _Such a pathetic crybaby,_ the voice within him hissed. _Why didn't you go deep enough? Why are you still here?_  
He harshly yanked his stinging arm away from Washington's grip, a few drops of blood splattering on the floor.  
He needed to get out of there.  
"Please, just leave me alone," he whispered as his tears began to fall. The walls felt like they were closing in on him again, his breathing labored. The urges were coming back.  
"Son--"  
"Just let me go home!" He cried. "I can't do this..." he mumbled. "I can't..."  
"Alexander, I need you to talk to me!" George said, his voice laced with what sounded like... Fear?  
"Leave me alone!" Alexander yelled. He could feel the panic bubbling in his core. How was he going to get out of this? He was afraid.  
There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.  
He backed away from Washington, shaking violently as he sobbed. He was attracting a crowd, students and teachers flooding the hallways as they heard the commotion. They could all see his mangled arms. He wouldn't be able to hide it anymore. He darted through the crowd, running as fast as his feet could carry him. _Go on, do what you do best,_ his inner voice said. _Run away like you always do._

__Once more, he bolted straight for his car, starting the engine and driving off as fast as he possibly could. He raced home at ungodly speeds, almost colliding with various objects, before he pulled into his driveway. He sprinted up the stone path and slammed his door, going straight up the stairs to the bathroom._ _

__He couldn't help but don an exhausted smile as he saw the shining piece of metal that lay on the countertop. He picked it up and twirled it in his fingers before digging it sharply into his skin.__


	5. 7 days left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MORE TRIGGER WARNINGS,, SUICIDE ATTEMPT, DEPICTIONS OF SELF HARM

_Alexander was going too far, and he knew it, too. He was almost certain he was going to die. But he wanted that after all, so what did it matter?_

_He managed to hit his radial artery, and the amount of blood was beyond alarming. He felt extremely dizzy, barely able to stand up on his own without leaning on something for support. He soon collapsed onto the floor, too weak to hold his own weight, the feeling of the cool tile and the sharp pulsing in his arm the only things he could actually _feel._ There was blood everywhere, and he knew it was just moments before he would completely lose consciousness. Maybe this is it, he thought. Maybe it'll finally be over and I won't wake up. He smiled at the thought as he stared mindlessly at the ceiling. He could see his eyesight fading, black edging around his peripheral vision. His breathing grew shallow as his heartbeat began to slow down.  
It'll all be over now, right?_

 

"Alexander," he heard a voice call.  
"Alexander, please..." it whispered. He was surrounded by nothing but blackness. But just like the first time he dreamt of Elizabeth, he turned around, and there she was. She looked like a bright, glowing angel amongst the darkness of his inner world. 

Except this time... He didn't cry upon seeing her. He didn't run to her. He didn't smile. He just... Stared. He almost wished she hadn't made herself known. He wished she wasn't there. 

There were tears falling from her black eyes as she sobbed. She slowly made her way towards him, shaking as she lifted his mangled arm and pressed it to her chest. The beautiful fabric of her dress was quickly staining red, and his arm stung so badly. Alexander said nothing.  
"You can't die yet..." Elizabeth said, hushed. "It's not your time!"  
Alexander couldn't understand. He didn't want to understand. He just wanted to slip away, he wanted to disappear forever, to go to bed and never open his eyes again. It seemed that was too much to ask. "You don't know how much it pains me to see you do this, knowing I can't be there to will you to put that damn blade down... So _please_ listen to me, Alexander. _Stop doing this to yourself,"_ Elizabeth begged, her voice cracking. She moved her hand, now covered in blood from holding his wounds, to hold his own hand. She gripped it tightly, afraid to let go. "The world can't afford to lose you. Don't cut your time short. I need you to live-!"  
"I don't _want_ to live!" He snapped. Elizabeth flinched at his raised tone, carefully backing away from him. He was seething, and she was terrified. He stared at her with unreadable eyes. She was broken, covered in _his_ blood, stressing over _his_ insignificant life. The afterworld was supposed to be peaceful, and he was causing her so much unnecessary pain. This was all his fault. The guilt rose drastically in his chest.  
He had failed at everything in life, and now he even failed at taking himself out. _Pathetic._ He shook his head, staring into the empty void of his dream world. 

"I don't _want_ to wake up, Eliza." 

He emitted a shaky sigh, fighting back his frustrated tears. "I don't want to face the world another day. I went too far, I cut too deep on purpose. I _wanted_ to die." He spoke through clenched teeth, and Elizabeth's heart shattered. In that moment, her gaze turned cold and her eyes burned with anger.  
She had heard enough. 

"Go, back, Alexander. _Now."_

 

Much to his dismay, he did, in fact, wake up.  
In a hospital bed.  
He lived alone. How did someone find him?  
He glanced around in confusion, the sound of the beeping machines filling the otherwise silent room. He looked down at his arm, which was all bandaged up save for his scabbed-over clock. 

**~~[0007 d 23 h 10 m 02s]~~ **

His whole body felt heavy, and he was tired. The handle on the door jingled slightly as a doctor made his way into the room, a patient smile gracing his face. He was a dark, rather lanky man, with dark brown hair and thick-rimmed glasses.  
"Ah, Mr. Hamilton! Glad to see you're awake. I'm Doctor Morris." Alexander hated his fake enthusiasm. It was already giving him a headache.  
"What happened?" He weakly asked, his voice scratchy. The doctor smiled once more, though a hint of sympathy was mixed in there. He hated it.  
"Well, you hit the artery in your arm, and went into shock due to excessive blood loss," he explained, looking over some papers on a clipboard he had grabbed off of a small desk. "We stitched the cuts up and managed to stop the bleeding just in time. You're very lucky," the doctor said. "We were quite worried we were going to lose you."  
Alexander was too weak to fight him. "How did I get here...?" He asked quietly. "I live alone."  
"Your boss called an ambulance to your home. Apparently he had seen the injuries earlier that day and worried you would do something like this again."  
Washington...  
Washington had sent for him after he ran...  
"But, what's important is that you're here!" The doctor chimed, snapping him out of his thoughts. His happiness was starting to greatly annoy Alexander. He decided to just keep his mouth shut for once, and listened as he continued to explain the circumstances. Alexander really just wanted to go home. "Now," he began once more, his tone more serious. "I will have you know that you are currently on suicide watch. There will be nurses monitoring you at all times for the next little while, and you will be transferred to a psychiatric hospital once you're a little bit stronger."  
Alexander inwardly groaned.

"Just focus on getting some rest. I'll be back to check your levels a little bit later. Nurse Amelia will be in the room with you if you need anything," he said with that same god damn smile. He opened the door, allowing the nurse to step inside, and she shut the door. Alexander shut his eyes, sighing. He almost felt angry towards Washington. He told him to just leave him be. Why would he send an ambulance after him? _Why couldn't he just let him die?_

He did _not_ want to be here. 

He let himself drift off into a deep, medicine-induced sleep;

A sleep where his dreams were completely absent of Eliza.


	6. 6 days left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander is in the hospital under suicide watch. he's not happy about it.

His entire hospital stay thus far has only consisted of a total lack of privacy, poor sleeping patterns, and pain. Alexander specifically hated the constant stare of the nurses that watched him.   
They treated him like a fucking child. 

They kept anything they even remotely believed he could use to hurt himself locked away, which oddly frustrated him. Knives, scissors, pins, any and everything was being kept from him. They even took away his belt, in case he tried to hang himself somehow. He had absolutely no means of causing any harm to himself.   
On top of that, he couldn't do anything on his own. There were eyes on him at all times, all hours of the day, non-stop. He couldn't leave his bed without permission, only able to leave for meals and bathroom breaks, and even then he was accompanied by an aid who kept him under surveillance. Being restricted like this was supposed to be for his own good, but being treated like some kind of animal made him feel worse. It made his _urges_ worse. He longed to feel the sharp metal against his skin, but they kept every vaguely-sharp object away from him.

The only thing that was making this easier,  
was lying.   
He would lie to absolutely every doctor or nurse that came to see him and hoped to god that they would believe him. Any question they asked, any mere sign of concern, and Alexander would put on a clever charade. He was like an actor in a play; he slipped on the mask and pulled off the role flawlessly. It was draining to pretend to be okay...  
But he did it anyway.  
He had to.   
"Yes, the medication is helping."  
"Yes, I'm feeling fine."  
"Yes, I'm getting better."

"I ~~w i l l~~ won't do it again. I promise."

He lay in the uncomfortable hospital bed, ignoring the nurse that spoke to him. She was asking every question possible as she tried to make some form of conversation in order to make observation a little less awkward. It wasn't working, however, as Alexander refused to speak. He had no interest in opening up to anyone here; he only wanted to fool everyone into believing him well enough to be able to leave. Of course, he was still being transferred to another hospital once he was a bit stronger, but the faster he got out of here, the faster he would get out of the second place, too. 

The door suddenly opened, causing Alexander to jump slightly at the jarring sound. His heart monitor increased its beeping, and Doctor Morris entered, speaking as he shut the door. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you there!" He laughed. Alexander frowned, rolling his eyes discreetly. Doctor Morris was nice and all, sure, but his constantly sunny disposition made Alexander immensely irritated. It almost made him feel like he was crazy. Why couldn't he be that happy, too?

Doctor Morris came to Alexander's side and slowly removed the slightly stained bandages covering his wounded arm, saying something that sounded much too distant for Alexander to hear. He decided it safer to stay in his own mind, to detach himself from the world around him and simply observe. That's how he made it through his teenage years after all. 

The cuts had been neatly stitched up, the bleeding finally 100% stopped. The doctor examined each wound carefully before going to grab more gauze from a nearby drawer. Alexander glanced quickly at his clock before Morris came back, squinting slightly to read the numbers that were embedded in his wrist. 

**~~[0006 d 08 h 20 m 06 s]~~ **

He made a mental note of it, filing it away in his mind for the time being as Doctor Morris came back over and started to re-dress his now closing wounds. "How are we feeling today, Alexander?" He inquired.   
"Better. Much better," he lied.   
"Is that so?" Morris smiled, setting down the remaining gauze and scrawling a few notes down onto his clipboard. "That's wonderful news!"  
Yeah, sure...  
A little bit of a silence ensued as he took a few more notes, observing the various machines that Alexander was hooked up to as he had the nurse replace his IV fluids. "You're doing excellent," he softly noted as he stepped back, setting the clipboard on his lap. "I believe you're doing well enough to be on 15 minute observation..." he seemed to suggest aloud, shooting a firm glance over to the nurse. She nodded in agreement with a soft smile. Alexander's brow creased as he shot a questioning look towards them.   
"What's that?"  
"Instead of a 24 hour observation, a nurse will come in to check on you in 15 minute intervals, giving you a little bit of privacy. You also appear to be doing increasingly well from a physical standpoint, so I believe that once you've stayed the full 72 hours on suicide watch, you're all set to be transferred on over to the psychiatric hospital. We'll only see you again once it's time to remove your stitches."

He did it. His lies got across perfectly. 

He smiled simply and thanked the both of them as they exited the room, giving Alexander his much desired privacy for the first time since he arrived yesterday. 

And it was while he was alone that he started to slip. 

He watched the door very cautiously as he slowly sat up, his eyes darting around the room looking for something, _anything_ even slightly sharp. Of course, as expected, there was nothing seeing how they had gutted the room of all potentially harmful objects upon his arrival. He was almost tempted to try and search the drawers, but there were locks on them that required a key that only the doctor would have. He huffed as he lowered himself back down, the urges now gnawing at the back of his mind. He unconsciously began to scratch at his too clean arm with his nails, which was the best he could get at the moment. The doctors only cared about his wounded arm, after all. He should be able to get away with this.   
It was better than nothing.   
He stared at his arm, completely zoned out, his eyes glazed over and unfocused as he continued to mindlessly scratch at the same spot over and over again until he started to draw blood. If only he had a pair of scissors, a pin, _something..._

He jumped, his heart monitor increasing once more as the nurse entered the room. He quickly held his arm at a slightly odd angle, trying to hide the bloody scratch from her view. Her voice was calm and soft, and her smile was laced with the sympathy that he hated so much. "Hello, Alexander, how are you? Is there anything I can get for you at this time?" She politely asked from the doorway.   
"No, I'm alright, thank you."  
"Alrighty. I'll be back to check up on you shortly." With that, she gave a curt nod before shutting the door with a soft click. Alexander heavily released the breath he had been holding as he lifted his scraped arm, examining his work. _Pathetic,_ he thought, but at least it was _something._

He had a new game to play now, he thought; a new game to take up the remainder of his second day of suicide watch. It was him vs. the hospital staff.   
How many times can he make himself bleed from now until tomorrow without being caught?

He'd rather make a minuscule cut than not feel anything at all.


	7. 5 days left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander has been transferred to a psychiatric institution. He's just getting settled in.

Alexander gently traced his scarring-over clock with his fingertips as he sat in the waiting room of the psychiatric hospital. He was so glad to be out of the ER, away from Doctor Morris' enthusiasm and the constant stares of the various nurses and aids assigned to him. 

Don't get the wrong idea. He didn't want to be here either, but he just knew that soon he would be out into the world once more, where he could slip back into his rather unhealthy ways of living.  
That's really all he wanted.  
He wanted to be back home in his room, the curtains drawn, curled up in bed as the familiar warm sting of a cut lulled him to sleep. He unconsciously began to scratch at his right wrist, pressing a little harder than he probably should have. He could feel the urges slowly creeping up on him at the thought...

"Alexander Hamilton?" A woman called from the doorway, snapping him out of his thoughts. She was rather small and stout, with wavy blonde hair and thick black glasses. Alexander took in a deep breath as he stood from the uncomfortable chair, trying to avoid the looks of the various people sitting around him as they watched him trudge over to where the woman stood. She gave him a moderately forced smile, waving as he approached her. He could see her clock from under her sleeve. 

**[0000 d 00 h 00 m 00 s]**

His eyes then met the shining silver wedding band on her finger. He felt some unexplainable feeling wash over him as he looked over her numbers once more. It almost felt like jealously... Or maybe anger? Sadness? Guilt?

"Hello, hun. I'm Doctor Irwin. If you could come with me, we're just going to take your height and weight, get some of your information, and afterwards our crisis counselor will have a small chat with you."  
He hoped doctor Irwin couldn't see him wince. The one thing he didn't want to do was open up. But now it was starting to look like he could only avoid talking for so long. How lovely! She seemed to catch on to his unease, and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, hun. It won't take long. Once your talk is over, I'll come fetch you and show you to your room." Alexander responded with a weak nod, a sudden wave of exhaustion almost knocking him out. He suddenly wished he could run. 

"It'll be okay, Alexander. You're safe here."

He wanted to believe her, but he couldn't help the dread that grew in his chest as he followed her down the almost too-clean hallways. He would pass some of the other inpatients, some smiling politely at him, others looking like they were on the verge of tears. He passed every type of person you could imagine; old, young, scarred, clean, large, thin, happy, sad. He specifically remembers passing one darker man around his age who offered a wide smile, waving at him, exposing countless scars that covered every inch of his arm. He didn't seem to mind it.  
"Bonjour," He softly greeted him.  
"Bonjour," Alexander returned with a small smile. The man seemed to light up at his reply. 

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. 

Alexander was led into a small office room where he sat across the table from Doctor Irwin. The room was plain and cold, and Alexander watched as the doctor started up her old computer, pulling up the necessary programs to take his information. She smiled, shooting him a small glance. "Let's get started. When's your birthday, hun?"  
"January 11, 1989."  
"So you're 28 years old?"  
"Correct."  
"Are you taking any medications at the moment?"  
"No, none."  
"Do you or have you ever used any recreational drugs?"  
"In the past, yes, but not currently."  
"When would you say was the last time you used?"  
"Maybe 4 or 5 years ago."  
"Do you have any family we can contact if need be?"  
He grimaced, clearing his throat nervously. "No," he said, just barely above a whisper. She decided not to press him further on the subject, sensing his discomfort.  
"Any preexisting medical conditions we should know about?"  
"Not anything diagnosed. I'm pretty prone to sickness, and I've had kidney ailments for a few years, if that's of any importance." The room became silent aside from Doctor Irwin's frantic typing on the keyboard. She stood slowly after glancing over her notes, motioning for Alexander to follow her to the scale on the opposite side of the room.  
170 cm, 122 pounds.  
"You're a bit thin for your height," she noted. It wasn't very surprising to him, as he never ate as much as he should have during his bouts of depression.  
"Now, one last thing before I send you off, and you probably won't like this... But I'm going to have to take a look at your arm." Alexander nodded with a sigh. He rolled up his sweater sleeve, and he couldn't help but shake as he held his arm out, letting her peel off the bandages, ready to wrap them up with fresh gauze. Her eyes flashed with sadness as she examined the stitched cuts, pressing slightly on one, making him hiss in pain. "Sorry, dear." She made note of the time on his clock, which was starting to develop a deep, pale scar that jutted straight through the numbers. 

**~~[0005 d 17 h 40 m 50 s]~~ **

Once she had collected all the necessary information, and once his arm was redressed, she led him back down the hall to a new room. Inside was a small grey couch, a wooden coffee table, and an armchair. It looked very much like your typical therapist office, with paintings on the wall and a computer set up in the corner. He guessed this was the crisis counselor's office.  
"Alright, Alexander. The counselor will be in in a few minutes. I'll come get you in about thirty minutes to show you to your room."  
"Thank you," he weakly said as she closed the door. He was now left alone in this strange room, waiting for some strange doctor who was going to try and pry into is strange mind wether he liked it or not. He began to scratch at himself yet again, his nerves blowing way out of proportion. His eyes surveyed the room, and soon caught on to a small handheld pencil sharpener that was barely hidden on the computer desk, sitting slightly behind the monitor. Alexander felt his heart jump as he walked across the room, quickly pocketing the small object and taking a seat back on the couch just in time as the door handle jiggled slightly. He glanced down at his shoes as the new person made their presence known. 

"Hello, dear," the sweet voice spoke, "I'm Carla. And you are?"  
"Alexander."  
"Nice to meet you, Alexander. I assume you know that we'll be having a little talk today?"  
"Yes."  
"Good. It shouldn't take very long," she assured him. "I want you to know that you can trust me. You can tell me absolutely anything, no matter how big or how little. My goal is to help you."  
Alexander looked up at the woman and was met with a warm, comforting grin. She was tan, with straight black hair and hazel eyes that conveyed emotion so vividly. He nodded slightly, which was more than enough for her. She retrieved a small blue notebook and a pen from the computer desk, flipping to a fresh page and scrawling something quickly across the top. Alexander couldn't make out exactly what it was.  
"So, Alexander, what brings you to this hospital?"  
"I... Was transferred here from the ER." He already didn't like where this was going.  
"And what landed you in the ER?"  
"A, um... Suicide attempt."  
She nodded, jotting down a few sentences in her notebook.  
"I see. I'm very sorry that you felt it had come to that point. I'm glad you're here," she said genuinely. "Can you tell me what you did?"  
He had no idea why talking about this was so hard.  
"I don't know, I just, um... I came home from work, and uh, I went up to the bathroom. I took a razor and, you know... I-I, um, hit my radial artery and went into shock, apparently. My boss had called an ambulance after I left work, and they found me on the floor. I got stitches and was placed on suicide watch."  
"What made you decide that suicide was your only option? Can you describe your thought process?"  
"I honestly don't know. Something within me told me to do it, so I listened."  
"What originally brought on this depression? Was there some kind of incident, or was it more out of the blue?"  
"It was... My clock, I guess. It... My original soulmate, she... Passed away a few years ago. But then I woke up, and it had just... Reset? My coworker traumatized me, telling me some, well... Not so nice things. That was when I first felt the urge to hurt myself."  
"You feel urges?"  
"Yes. Often."  
"Can you describe them?"  
"They're almost like an itch," he explained quietly. "I get urges to cut, and the longer I wait, the stronger the urges get. It can get to where I can't sit still and I... I panic. It's like I have to do it."  
"Alright. I believe I've gotten a good grasp of your situation. Thank you very much for your time, Alexander. I'll speak to you again soon over the next few days, okay?"  
"Okay."  
She smiled, holding the door open for him, and sure enough, Doctor Irwin waited across the hallway for him in a little blue chair. She too grinned at him. "All done? Now I can show you to your room! I'll explain the way things work around here on the way, okay?" Alexander nodded firmly as he trailed along side the plump woman.  
"Alright, so first off," she began, "rooms will be searched daily for any potentially harmful items," she said, and Alexander grew mildly nervous as he remembered the pencil sharpener he stole from the counselor's office. Surely he could find a way to keep it from them... "Rooms are also locked at about 10:30, and you will not be allowed to leave or roam the halls until 6. It's currently 8:53," she said, glancing at her silver watch, "So you have a little time. You do have a roommate, too," she added giddily. "A sweet young man named Gilbert. I just adore him. He's very energetic, but I will say he does have Bipolar disorder. If he has any mood swings or gets upset with you, know it's just his illness speaking, okay?" She asked, stopping in front of one new, white door with the number 247. "He's a sweetheart, and he really means well." Alexander took a deep breath as she opened it, holding it to allow him to enter  
"I understand. Thank you."  
"Good. I'll give you some time to settle in, then." And with that, she was gone. 

The room was a dull bluish-grey, with two plain dormitory style beds and paintings that were caulked to the wall. Each side of the room had a tall, white shelf and a small closet for personal belongings. Alexander was too tired to really observe any further, and instead flopped down onto his rather uncomfortable bed. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, where he heard a familiar voice chime in. 

 

"I'm glad you're getting help, Alexander," Eliza said to him. "It'll only get better from here, right?"


	8. 4 days left

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just got back from vacation, sorry for no updates. Enjoy!

Alexander was startled awake by the sound of loud French music blaring in his room, seemingly from a cellphone. He bolted upright in his bed, catching a glimpse of that same curly-haired, scar-covered frenchman who had greeted him in the hallway yesterday. He was sitting cross-legged on the bed opposite of Alexander's own, and he wore a navy blue sweater with grey sweatpants. He was sketching in a drawing pad while signing along shamelessly to the tune, even doing a little dance in place. Alexander swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched his arms out above him, catching the other man's attention. He gasped, quickly shutting off his music and tossing his phone somewhere near his pillow.   
"Mon dieu, I'm so sorry! You were all curled up under there and I completely forgot I had a roommate!" He said hurriedly. He seemed almost embarrassed, flushing a little red and clearing his throat. "Ah, anyway... Besides all that... I'm Gilbert, but _please_ call me Lafayette. And you are?"  
"Alexander."  
"Ah, oui! You're the one I saw in the hall yesterday!" He suddenly realized. Alexander forced a smile and nodded in conformation. How had he just noticed? "You're new here. How long you staying for? Do you know?"  
"I... Don't really know, no. 'Till they deem me well enough to leave, I guess. I just hope that they won't smother me too badly here," he grumbled. He needed to have freedom, and at least some privacy, or else he would no doubt go insane.   
Lafayette nodded in understanding. He offered a sad smile, his eyes shifting over to the thick wooden door. He seemed a little disconnected from himself, Alexander noted. He knew the feeling, but decided not to ask.   
"Yeah, about that... I've been here for quite a while. Don't believe whatever Doctor Irwin told you about this place, mon ami. No one watches us," he explained, "no one checks the rooms. These nurses do nothing but slack on their damn jobs and wonder why so many of their patients slip away right under their noses. You'll find that out real soon."  
Alexander was a little stunned, to say the least. How was he supposed to reply to that? Lafayette had suddenly made the topic sound unmistakably dark. Even the way he worded it made Alexander mildly uneasy in and of itself! He decided to feed into his curiosity by asking, and quickly wished he didn't.   
"What do you mean by "slip away," exactly?"  
"Suicide. Die."  
"What...? But this is--"  
"A hospital? Yeah. Not a very good one." Lafayette was being quite blunt with his words. The tone of his voice had even changed very quickly, going from bubbly and energetic to slow, monotone, and a bit deeper than it was before. _Oh yeah,_ Alexander recalled. _He has bipolar disorder._  
"One of my friends attempted just two days ago and failed. He's not doing too well." Lafayette's glossy eyes shifted to the floor, his expression unchanging as he fiddled with a thread on his sweatshirt sleeve, rolling it between his fingers gently. "They had him on suicide watch. 15 minute observation. He tried to hang himself in the bathroom with a belt, had fallen unconscious, and had just been hanging there for about 3 minutes until a nurse came to check on him."  
Alexander was beginning to change his mind on his idea of this "not being that bad." He felt a little pang of anxiety in his chest, but tried his damnedest to shrug it off as Lafayette continued. Alexander never handled talks of death very well. Not after he lost his mother.   
"He's in the ICU until he, possibly, gets better. They don't know what's going to happen to him. Oh, Alexander... You never know who'll die next. I never thought John would've done something like that..." Alexander simply nodded, albeit a little slowly, at his roommate. Lafayette remained a little far out for a moment, before gently shaking his head and looking back at Alexander with a small smile.   
"Sorry. I ramble too much. Come, come, let's go get breakfast! I'll introduce you to my friend Aaron while we're down there."  
And next thing he knew, Lafayette had pulled him up off the bed, and was currently dragging Alexander over to the door and padding down the hallway to who knows where. Alexander tried to ignore the unease Lafayette had unintentionally instilled within him. It gnawed silently at the back of his brain as he passed several other inpatients in the halls. _They're going to die,_ his inner voice echoed. _They're all going to die, and there's nothing you can do about it._ Alexander gritted his teeth harshly, trying to push the thoughts out of his mind. In an attempt to distract himself, he studied the color patterns of the pale blue and yellow tiles that lined the hallways as he continued to be dragged by his forearm by Lafayette. He winced slightly at the pressure of him squeezing his stitches, which stung just enough to be noticeable. He was good at ignoring it for the first few minutes, but he had tightened his grip, and that's were Alexander drew the line.   
"Ow, Laf... You're squeezing an, um... A bad part of my arm..." Lafayette shot him a confused look, but he did remove his hand. Alexander lightly rubbed the area with the tips of his fingers, avoiding all eye contact with his roommate.   
"What do you mean?"  
"I have, uh... Cuts... There. They're stitched."  
"Oh! I'm so sorry, I had no idea! Are you alright?"  
"It's fine, I'm alright," Alexander sighed. Instead of grabbing him again, Lafayette simply motioned for Alexander to follow him into a big school cafeteria type room. There were dozens medium sized tables with four blue chairs positioned around each of them. The large windows let in a serene glow from the sunlight, and there were a few TVs on different sections of the walls that were playing the local news station. People wandered around with plates and cups, some sitting in groups, others with aids. Alexander noticed one sickly looking girl sitting by herself near the door. She looked sad, and he wished he could say something.   
Lafayette excitedly waved at a rather intimidating, slim man who sat towards the back corner of the room. He had a dull, forced smile as he waved back, and Lafayette urged Alexander to follow with a soft "allons-y!" and a subtle wave of his hand. Alexander approached with caution as Lafayette chatted with the stranger.   
"Aaron, this is Alexander. Alexander, Aaron!" He said. How could he be so cheery in a place like this...?  
"Hello. It's nice to meet you," Aaron politely said.   
"Likewise."  
Lafayette nudged Alexander by the upper arm as Aaron stood from his seat. He was surprisingly tall, Alexander noted. "Let's go get some food. I'm starving."

As they went up to grab their respective plates, an extreme wave of hunger had overcome Alexander almost instantly. Now that he actually stopped to think about it, he had barely eaten much of anything since he was in the ER. He only picked at the bland food, and he didn't eat dinner here last night, instead passing out on his bed the moment he came in contact with it. He loaded up his plate with some small pancakes, eggs, and toast. When the trio sat back down at the table, the bombardment began.   
"Woah, Alex, that's a lot of food for someone so tiny!" Alexander couldn't help but chuckle at that. It _was_ quite a lot for someone his size. In his regular day to day life, he'd usually only be able to eat about half of what he currently had, but he was so hungry. His smile quickly fell as he realized he would have to explain why that was. "I haven't really eaten much since... Before I was in the ER."   
"You were in the ER?" Lafayette inquired. "What happened?"  
Alexander shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It was so strange to admit what he had done, especially to other people. He didn't know why it made him feel so bad, so... Judged. He could barely speak up.   
"I... Tried to kill myself," he mumbled. His two new companions eyes softened, and they frowned.   
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Aaron sympathized. For once, Alexander didn't mind it. "If you don't mind me asking," Lafayette began, "What did you do?" Aaron coughed, leaning in to Alexander and muttering in his ear, "He likes to ask too-personal questions. You can say no." Alexander shook his head in response with a polite smile. "It's alright. I, um..." he tried to shift gears, to will himself to speak. It was so difficult. "I had gotten home from work. I went to the bathroom, took a razor, and uh... You can probably figure out the rest. Hit an artery, which I meant to do... Turns out my boss had called 911 when I stormed out of work. They found me on the floor."  
"That sounds a bit similar to my story," Lafayette empathized. "I had a horrible major depressive episode. I rushed home from work, thought if I slit my wrists and died everything would be better, except... My wife found me. Ma pauvre fille... Mon âme soeur. I will never rid myself the guilt I feel for causing her so much pain." Alexander placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, offering a comforting smile. He tried to ignore how the mention of a wife sent a jab into his heart as he remembered his own clock, which was now on four days. He didn't know the details, as he didn't want to look at it. He just knew four days. Lafayette shook his head, breaking himself out of the sudden sadness that washed over him. He cleared his throat, his radiant smile returning in an instant. It was like the whole thing never happened. "Aaron, mon ami. Why don't you join in on story time?"  
Aaron huffed, pushing his food around on his plate. "Bulimia. Simple as that."  
The three ate together, making rather easy conversation. Alexander really liked these two, despite just meeting them. They were empathetic, they were welcoming, and they were far beyond supportive. Aaron was a bit quiet, and very blunt about things, yet he was respectful. Lafayette was loud, full of energy, and extremely talkative. Alexander was somewhere in the middle, mildly talkative yet a bit relaxed. They all seemed to fit together like puzzle pieces, and he was so grateful that he found them. 

As breakfast began to wrap up, an aid came to accompany Aaron to his room. Inpatients who had eating disorders, Alexander learned, had to have someone with them after every meal to ensure they don't purge afterwards. He could see the distressed look in Aaron's eyes as he exited the cafeteria a bit early, a male nurse walking by his side. 

Lafayette and Alexander were heading back to their own rooms when all hell broke loose just outside of the cafeteria. 

The frail, sickly looking girl that Alexander had seen before had let out a blood-curdling scream in the middle of the hallway. Alexander, startled by the outburst, looked over at her. Fear quickly began to hijack his system, his body beginning to tremble as he stood amongst the crowd of other inpatients who were watching her. The girl was on the ground, sobbing, bright red in the face. He had no idea what was happening to her. She was punching the floor until her knuckles bled, pulling her hair, scratching her arms, attacking any and everything within reach, including herself. A code team was soon called to the location, where they restrained her by pinning her down to the floor, preparing to sedate her. She was screaming something about voices in her head, about monsters who were going to kill her. She kicked and writhed on the floor, tears and blood everywhere as the team had successfully sedated her. Alexander felt so terrible as he watched her lose grip of reality, slowly drifting off as the sedative took over her body until she had completely blacked out, and they took her away. Alexander was frozen in place, trying to comprehend the situation, before Lafayette spoke.   
"That's Daniela. She's schizophrenic," he explained much too calmly for Alexander's liking. "She sees and hears things that aren't there. Come, let's get back to the room. They're going to have to clean up the blood."

For the rest of the day, Alexander just couldn't get that Daniela girl out of his mind. He went about every meal, both group meetings, and all his checkups with the horrible incident on repeat, not quite knowing why. Lafayette reassured him that it was an uncommon occurrence in the hospital, that it wouldn't happen to him, but he was just so afraid. What if he ended up like that? What if he slipped into madness from being here? What if he ended up like Lafayette's friend John, another attempted or even successful casualty? 

_You probably will,_ his inner voice chimed in as he lay in bed. _You're crazy. You're insane. You know it._ Alexander sighed, his urges slowly creeping up on him as he glanced around the dark room. He shifted onto his side, letting his eyes adjust before glancing at Lafayette's silhouette under the covers in his bed, listening as he softly snored. 

Alexander just wanted to be okay. 

He got up and dug under the mattress of his bed for the little pencil sharpener he had stolen from the crisis counselor's office, carefully unscrewing the blade from the bright green plastic as he softly padded over to the bathroom, shutting the door and sitting on the cold tile floor. He had successfully freed the sharp, shining metal, and looked at his arms. There was no way he would get away with cutting there. The doctors would obviously see them during checkup. But...

They wouldn't see his thighs.


	9. 3 days left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE I WENT TO VALLEY FORGE AND I HAD WRITER'S BLOCK 
> 
> anyway. TRIGGER WARNING AS USUAL

_"Why?" He heard her cry out into his dream world._

_"Why?!" Her voice grew louder. More afraid. Angry._

_"I thought you were finally getting better!" She scolded. Her sobs were deafening. Alexander screwed his eyes shut and covered his ears, curling in on himself. It was a poor excuse to hide, but he couldn't hide here. Oh no. Elizabeth aggressively pulled him up off the ground, forcing him to look at her. She was seething, her black eyes that once held the stars now burning with rage. She reached into Alexander's sweater pocket, pulling out the blade that he forgot he had kept in there when he fell asleep. She placed it in his hands, forcing him to hold it, before stretching out her pale arm. Alexander shot her a confused look, but her expression was firm and serious. She grabbed his hand, moving it so he was pressing the blade against her pale skin._  
_"Cut me," she said._  
_Alexander looked at her, eyes wide in shock. He didn't know how to react. "Go on, then! If you want to cut something, then cut me!" She yelled, her voice cracking as the tears began to fall once more. Alexander couldn't fight back his emotions this time around. He felt his own tears beginning to spill. "You've already sliced open my heart, Alexander. Do it!" She urged. His hand began to shake as he pulled the blade away from her. He stared down into the vast nothingness that surrounded them._  
_"I won't cut you, Eliza," he whispered. "I can't."_  
_"Why not?" She asked. "If you can cut yourself, why can't you cut me?"_  
_"Because I deserve it!" He snapped back. She winced slightly at his raised tone, but she was standing her ground._  
_"You don't deserve it, Alex."_  
_"Yes I do! All I do is cause you and everyone around me all this unnecessary pain!" He sobbed, moving the blade to his own arm. "Forget about finding my soulmate. Just... Please... Let me die..."_  
_Elizabeth gasped, running forward to try to take the razor back from him, realizing he still held it in his grip, but she wasn't quick enough. Not even here. He had already dug the metal far too deep into himself, dragging it down the length of his arm slowly as he heaved from the pain, his choked groans and cries the only sound surrounding them aside from Elizabeth's horrified gasps. The vertical gash was absolutely indescribable, reaching from his wrist to about half way down his forearm, right above and through his artery. The blood spilled everywhere, and he could feel himself slipping away from the world._

_Elizabeth couldn't do anything to save him._

_She could only watch as he bled to death in a dream._

 

Alexander woke in a cold sweat with a loud gasp, loud enough to alert a nurse who was just beyond the door. He had went back to his room and went to bed early today, as it had been uneventful and tiring. He drew the blinds, shut off the lights, and it had been surprisingly dark in there. The nurse quickly entered, observing Alexander's silhouette with concern as he sat on his uncomfortable, messy bed having a rather extreme panic attack. It was too dark, and he couldn't see her too well. He could make out curly hair that had been tied up, but nothing more. She had asked him if he was okay, and he could only nod vigorously as the nurse cradled him in her thin arms, trying to coach him through the attack with breathing exercises and visualization techniques. Her voice sounded familiar... He pushed the thought aside, following along with her coaching. The techniques she used were never of much help to him before, but he did them anyway so she would leave faster. He had calmed down a good amount, but he still couldn't get his breathing under control and his heart was racing far quicker than he was used to. His nose and cheeks felt almost numb, his whole body tingling and and his hands still shaking. His dream had shaken him down to the bone, and he felt absolutely horrible for doing what he did before Elizabeth. 

"Are you sure you're alright? Do you want to step outside for a minute and get some air?" She asked sweetly, in a hushed voice so as not to alert anyone outside. Alexander glanced over at Lafayette's empty bed, noting that the frenchman hadn't yet come back. Alexander pondered her offer for a moment. Fresh air _would_ be a nice change from the black dreariness of his room. He stood slowly, his head getting light for a moment as he shuffled towards the door, the sweet nurse still beside him.  
"What's your name?" She asked as they tiptoed through the dark, cold room to the door with extreme caution, trying to avoid bumping into any walls or the bed.  
"Alexander," he said, pushing the door open and stepping into the light of the white hallways. He heard the nurse gasp lightly from behind him, and he turned around in mild confusion, about to ask her what was wrong when--

"Alexander..."  
_"Angelica?"_

She stood there, a hand clasped over her mouth as she stared in amazement at him, tears pricking at the corners of her doe eyes.  
Elizabeth's sister...  
The memories began to flood back, memories of when he first met the Schuyler family, just after Elizabeth passed away. He suddenly remembers meeting her siblings, recalling the time he spent talking to the oldest daughter who now stood before him. 

_"I'm a nurse," she said with a smile. "When we were kids, 'Liza and I used to love playing doctor together," she recalled fondly. She couldn't help the gentle giggle that escaped her lips, as she motioned with her hand for Alexander to follow her into a room, which he assumed was hers. "We used to have Peggy be the patient. Every single time. We had so much fun together... I guess that childhood fondness carried over into my adult life," she said, making her way across the room. She crouched beside her large bed, reaching under and retrieving a small, black box from underneath. She sat on the bed, the box in her lap, and she opened the lid, rummaging through a cluttered mess of old papers and various objects. Alexander sat down slowly beside Angelica on her soft bed, gazing around the rather small room and observing the little trinkets she had placed about. There were little plants on the windowsill, and her vanity was neatly organized, with a vase of beautiful flowers just next to the mirror. Angelica pulled an old looking piece of paper out of the box after some time, holding it out to Alexander, who took it cautiously. It was a drawing, a drawing of what looked to be Eliza and Angelica together, playing doctor, with the youngest sister, Peggy, beside them. The picture was dated messily in childish handwriting, written in purple crayon,_

"October 10, 1993  
to: Angelica and Peggy  
from: Eliza! :)"

_Angelica smiled sadly at the paper, memories of her dear sister flooding her mind like a tidal wave. Memories of playing tag in the yard, of their vacations to the beach, their games of hide and seek in the grand hallways of their home. Every single memory struck her like a hammer. She had watched Eliza grow up. She was only a year older, but Eliza always idolized her as her big sister. She always wanted to be just like Angelica._  
_Just like Angie._  
_"She drew it for me... She was four years old. I was five, Peggy was three." Alexander's eyes began to water as his eyes traced over the paper, the childish innocence of the drawing striking something deep within his heart. He felt a tear slip, and he handed the paper back to her before anything happened to it, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. Angelica gently placed the paper back within the box, closing and returning it to its hiding place beneath her bed. "I carried it with me all throughout school. I like to say Eliza was the reason I decided to go into the medical field. She wanted to help people. I want to help people."_

He knew she was a nurse, but _here?_

Angelica reached her hand out, softly grasping Alexander's upper arm, her eyes filled to the brim with worry, surprise, and of course, tears. Alexander returned the look, his mouth slightly agape. For the first time in his life, he felt speechless. Angelica looked both ways, making sure she wasn't arousing any unwanted attention, before leading Alexander down the hall quietly. Her pace was quick, and her expression close to unreadable. They were headed for a door, and Alexander wasn't supposed to be going outside, especially not at this time, but hopefully since Angelica was with him, it wouldn't be too big of an issue. She did work there after all. She knew what was best for him, right? She opened the door as quietly as possible, allowing him to pass her and step out into the cool night. The moon was just beginning to peer out and was shining surprisingly bright, a few clouds spotting here and there. The sky was a deep blue on one end, black on the other as the last gleams of daylight vanished beyond the horizon. It was slightly chilly, but not uncomfortable, and Alexander took in a deep breath. He followed Angelica to a small wooden bench that was a few feet to their right, and he sat down beside her, unable to make eye contact. Instead he opted to stare down at the pavement of the sidewalk, taking in every minor detail. The silence was making him feel sick, but he didn't know what to say. He didn't know where to begin.  
The seconds grew longer. The silence grew deafening. You could nearly feel the tension in the air from yards away. 

"What are you doing here?" Angelica more so stated than asked after some time. Her voiced sounded unusually dull, and not at all like the Angelica who was just coddling him minutes ago. He answered her nonetheless, no matter how reluctant he felt about it.  
"It's not a pretty story," he mumbled. "You don't want to hear it." He heard her sniffle, and gasp softly. Was she... Crying?  
"Alexander. _Please,"_ she whispered back, her voice strained. "I want to know what happened. You can trust me. You know that! You can tell me!" He bit his lip rather hard, his eyes screwing shut as he shook his head side to side. His hands gripped harshly at the edge of the bench, his knuckles turning white as he let out a shaky breath. He hated admitting that he was suicidal. _Is_ suicidal. Every time he had to explain it, every time he had to answer, it got increasingly more and more difficult. He was tired of it. He knew this wouldn't be the last time someone would ask. There was no doubt that people in the future--ten, twenty years from now--would inquire, "How did you get those big scars on your arm? Did you cut yourself? Are you okay? Are they permanent?"  
_Suicide attempt. Yes, I cut myself. No, I'm not okay. Yes, they're permanent._  
Angelica wasn't taking too kindly to his silence. Her voice grew much harsher, and she raised her tone just enough to pull him out of his own mind.  
"Alexander. I want to know why you're here."

"My clock reset," he blurted out. 

Angelica's eyes shot over to him, blown wide, and confusion was finely etched into her face. Her brow furrowed as her eyes scanned over him, glancing down to his wrist, which she couldn't see because of the hoodie he wore. She was about to press for further information, but Alexander was beginning to crumble before her. She wanted to know. She may as well know everything.  
Every. Single. Detail. 

He rather aggressively yanked his sleeve up, nearly tearing off his bandages, revealing the mangled mess of his arm to her with no hesitation, no remorse. He could hear her gasp in shock, both of her hands flying up to cover her mouth. Sure enough, his clock was ticking down. 

**~~[0003 d 04 h 37 m 30 s]~~ **

"Alexander... Wh-"

"I feel horrible about it, you know. About my clock resetting like Eliza never existed. It makes me feel disgusting," he hissed, his stare locked onto the ground. "I'm her soulmate, but I wasn't there for her, and she's gone. I didn't want to look at it anymore. I didn't want to see the newly-ticking reminder on my wrist for ten agonizing days. So I cut myself." He traced his thumb over the jagged scar that jutted through his clock. "And then my coworker. He _traumatized_ me. He said he knew her. That I should have died instead of her. And you know," he said with a painful laugh, "he's right. He's absolutely right. I don't deserve to be here, Eliza does. And his words kept fucking coming, over and over like daggers into my chest. So I went home," he said calmly. He shifted his void stare over to Angelica, who was silent, with tears streaming down her cheeks. "I went right into the bathroom. I took the same razor I mangled my clock with, and mangled the rest of my arm, too. I hit my artery. I was _this_ close to bleeding to death on my bathroom floor. It was all I wanted, but I can never do anything in life right, can I?" He smiled innocently as he fumbled with his stitches. "I can't even die. An ambulance came and took me away. And, after three days on suicide watch, I landed here. You wanted to know. Now you know everything." His eyes wandered back to the ground as his brain slowly processed everything he just admitted to. He wanted to slap himself for revealing that much so fast and so soon. He felt Angelica's frail arms wrap tightly around him, her head resting on his shoulder as she cried heavily. She held him tight in her grasp, hesitant to loosen her grip. Her sobs were almost as painful to hear as Eliza's. Almost.  
"Alexander... You know that none of this is your fault. You can't control your clock. You couldn't stop the car crash. And you certainly do _not_ deserve to die!" She nearly shouted. Alexander's emotions were quickly bubbling in his chest. He felt like he was choking. "You need to be here. For you, for your next soulmate! Do you want them to go through what you did with my sister? Do you want someone else to feel this pain? If you won't live for yourself, live for _them!"_

Her words were a harsh wake up call for him.  
He would never want anyone to go through this. He hated the idea of having a new soulmate, but Angelica was right. He could never hurt someone like that, ever. His hard glare at the concrete softened, and he softly rested his head upon Angelica's as his eyes moved up from the ground to the smattering of stars that sparkled in the sky. He closed his eyes, slowly standing up and pulling his sweater sleeve back down. He helped Angelica up from the seat, pulling her into a warm, genuine hug. 

"I'm sorry for scaring you, and I'm sorry for snapping. Truly. I'm... Just very tired, Angelica. I'm... I'm so tired."  
She knew exactly what he meant by that. She knew very well that 'tired' meant a hell of a lot more than just sleepy. She gently tugged his upper sleeve, leading him back inside the building with an understanding smile. "It's okay. I pressured you to talk... But, you're here, and we can help you. That's what matters. Let's get your arm redressed, and after that, you head on back to your room and rest."  
"Thank you, Ang. For listening."  
She smiled contentedly, pulling him into one last hug  
"I will always be here for you, Alexander. Always."


	10. 2 days left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lmao I said I would upload this 2 hours ago but I was lazy. Sorry it's not the longest! I have some stuff to tell you guys before the story about where I currently stand. 
> 
> Updates may not be as frequent as they were before. I have a summer class that I need to finish up, I have a job, and I'm also going to be in new York City for a week soon! I'm going to visit Alex & Eliza's graves as well as Angelica's and leave some flowers in their honor (I also want to leave a single flower with Eliza in honor of Philip, as it is unknown where within Trinity Church he is buried.) 
> 
> Anyway, I will not abandon this writing, but I will probably be taking longer to update as I also am still having a bit of writer's block. 
> 
> Hopefully you guys can understand. As always, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

"Annnd... Done!"  
Alexander glanced down at his arm, which were now free of stitches. He was glad to finally have had them taken out as they had been nothing but a bother to him since he first got them. He had come back to visit Doctor Morris at the general hospital to get them taken out, and he couldn't help but stare at the small dots that were left in the place of them. He smiled politely at the doctor.  
"Thank you."  
"You're very welcome. Are you doing better over at Hope Haven? How do you like it there?"  
Alexander gritted his teeth slightly at the mention of the place.  
"Yeah... I'm doing well. It's nice." More and more lies.  
"I'm very glad to hear that!" He chimed, scrawling some notes down onto his papers. Alexander patiently waited for him to finish, his eyes trailing about the room. It was very dull looking and smelled vaguely of cleaning supplies, but that was expected. Doctor Morris cleared his throat as he set his clipboard down, turning to face Alexander.  
"Alright, any questions? Is there anything else I should be made aware of before you head off?"  
"No, sir."  
"You haven't been cutting anymore, have you?"  
Alexander's heart skipped a beat as he remembered the rather uncomfortable cuts that were on his thighs.  
"No, I haven't."  
"That's very good! I understand it can be hard to stop. I'm proud of you." Alexander felt a twang of guilt in his chest, but he pushed it aside. He hated having to lie. He wished that Doctor Morris hadn't thrown in that last part about pride. He knew it was just a lie, a thought born from pity, and that's what really stung him. 

He just couldn't wait to get out of here, so he could go back to the not-so-comfortable "comforts" of his dark room and small bed at Hope Haven.  
\--

Alexander had went to go to get his stitches removed in a t-shirt, just to make it a little easier. He had worn a jacket overtop of of it to avoid the questions and odd looks, and it didn't occur to him until he stepped inside of Hope Haven that he, being the genius he was, forgot it in the hospital waiting room. He grimaced as the thought occurred to him. 

He was completely overcome with anxiety, now extremely self-conscious about people around him seeing his scarred arm for the first time. The only one who had really seen it was Angelica and a few of the other nurses and doctors. After all, they were _required _to look at it. He tried holding his arm flush against his side or his chest, even crossing his arms, but no matter what he tried to do, it always looked rather awkward and didn't feel very comfortable either. He had no choice but to walk in, as is, and let EVERYONE know exactly what he had done. The scars on his arm spoke volumes without him having to utter a single word. He almost felt embarrassed as he padded his way down the hallways, trying to keep his gaze down at the yellow floor tiles. Occasionally he would glance around himself, catching glimpses of other patients and nurses, their eyes locked onto his arm. Those judging eyes and their false sympathy all irritated him a great deal more than it should have. He hung his head in shame as he stepped into his room, quickly closing the door behind him. All he wanted to do was sleep for the rest of the night, undisturbed. He took a few steps in, plopping down on his bed, before he noticed Lafayette there, sitting on his bed reading a novel. Lafayette, being as blunt as he was, didn't ignore the elephant in the room for very long.__  
"Ah, Alexander! This is the first time I've seen you in a t-shirt!" He joked. He looked into Alexander's uneasy eyes with a genuine softness in his own, giving him an understanding smile as he held up his own scar-covered arm. "Welcome to the club."  
Alexander couldn't help but crack a smile. He appreciated how Laf always tried his hardest to make the most of everything here. He always dug for the positives in life, in any situation he was thrown in, and Alexander greatly admired that about him. Laf made staying here a whole lot better.  
Alexander found a friend in him. A _true_ one. Alexander looked down at his arm with a smile. He felt a little less ashamed about them now. 

__There was a light tap on the door before the handle jiggled, the door slowly creeping open as Angelica poked her head in. She smiled warmly at the two. "Is it alright if I come in?" She asked in a hushed voice. Alexander and Lafayette exchanged a glance before they both nodded, allowing her to enter. Angelica took small steps, closing the door gently behind her as she made her way over to Alexander.  
"I heard you got your stitches taken out," she said, sitting down beside him on the firm mattress. "That's great news!"  
"Yeah," Alexander softly agreed, his smile small, but still there. Angelica reassuringly wrapped an arm around him, rubbing his upper arm as she gave him a sort of half-hug. The silence that ensued was surprisingly comfortable, and Alexander felt somewhat... Happy.  
"Aww, how precious," Lafayette cooed at the pair. "Are you two soulmates?"  
"No, no. Alexander and I have known each other for a few years now," Angelica answered. She could sense that the question had made Alexander a bit uneasy. She could feel him tensing up as he uncomfortably cleared his throat. Lafayette nodded in response.  
"How did you meet?" Angelica's eyes shifted down to look at Alexander, a small hint of worry in her eyes. She knew that he hated talking about Eliza.  
He hadn't ever really told anyone about her besides Hercules. But word gets around at work from others, people talk and stories spread. Soon, everyone there had known. Talking about Elizabeth was a painful thing for him to do, and even the mention of her name brought the memories of his horrific dream back. He felt a small pang of remorse, but he felt a little more confident in himself now. 

__For the first time, he was opening up,_ _

__and he was telling Eliza's story._ _

__"Angelica's younger sister was my first soulmate," he softly spoke up. Angelica was a bit shocked upon hearing his voice, as she had expected him to remain silent. She listened as he continued. "Her name was Elizabeth. She was starting her first day as a professor at the college I work at currently. She had been on her way in early to get her paperwork sorted out and to get a feel for the building ahead of time. But there was, well... A reckless driver." His voice grew a bit quieter, but he powered through it. He wanted to tell her story. He needed to. "They swerved into the other lane and crashed head on into her car. The paramedics said it killed her instantly. It was just hours before we were supposed to meet... My clock had remained paused for about three years straight. I still remember the exact reading on it: two hours, five minutes, twenty-three seconds. Those numbers will be burned into my mind for the rest of my life..."  
"Oh, Alexander, je suis tres desolée. That's a horrible thing to go through. But... Pardon me for asking, you said your clock was paused for three years? What do you mean by that? Did it reset or something of the sort?" Alexander slowly nodded his head in conformation, rising from his bed and walking over towards Lafayette, where he held out his arm for him to see his clock. _ _

__~~**[0002 d 17 h 56 m 16 s]** ~~ _ _

__"Mon dieu, that's unheard of!" He exclaimed, appearing to be very intrigued by Alexander's story. He couldn't blame him. It wasn't very common to hear of people who lost soulmates that had their clocks reset, as people who lost a soulmate had lost all they had, said and done, unless they were polyamorous, pansexual, bisexual, etcetera._ _

__Polyamorous people would all find each other at the same moment, in the same place at the same time. Bi or Pansexual people would meet a bit differently. A man could meet his male soulmate, his clock hitting zero, but then after some time, his clock could reset and he could find a second soulmate who was female, and then another day in the future find someone non-binary. Alexander didn't know yet if he was straight, if he was bisexual, or whatever he may so happen to be. He didn't know if this next soulmate would be his last. He knew he was destined to be with a woman first, but he didn't know what his next soulmate identified as. He had no real way of knowing his sexuality until then._ _

__Lafayette softly, carefully placed his hand on top of Alexander's scars as he held his arm. He looked up at him, a supportive smile on his face as he spoke. "You have been through so much, mon ami. It's been difficult, I completely understand. You've had ups and extreme downs recently. But you're here! You're here, you're alive, and you're getting help. And I am so, so proud of you for making it this far," he said, standing as he pulled Alexander into a tight hug._ _

__He could tell Lafayette was sincere. Tears began to well in Alexander's eyes, and he smiled happily as Angelica joined the hug, wrapping her arms around the both of them. He couldn't help but let out a chuckle.  
Alexander had never felt so much love and support before in his life. Not when he was orphaned, not when he graduated. Never.  
He felt important now. He felt stronger.  
And in that moment, he had a wonderful thought. 

____I am so lucky to be having this second shot,__ his inner voice said. __Whoever this next soul may be... I'll love them with all my heart.___ _


	11. The Final Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I combined Alexander's dream on what would have been the chapter "One day left" with the actual day he meets his soulmate so they wouldn't be two separate chapters

One night left.  
Alexander had a wonderful dream. 

_"I can never forgive myself for what I did the last time I saw you. I made you bear witness to such a horrible thing, and I can never take that back..."_  
_Her soft, warm hands grasped his own as she smiled forgivingly. He just adored that smile._  
_"You don't have to apologize to me. I understand now that things are tough. I understand," she said, pulling him close, "that you are still grieving. I know you need time to heal, and I know that healing is not easy for you in the slightest. But I will do everything within my power to be there, whenever you need me to be."_  
_"Thank you..." he whispered. What had he done to deserve such a wonderful, kind hearted girl? Even in the afterlife she was nothing but a radiant beam of sunlight, filled to the brim with love and compassion that exceeded that of any other being Alexander had ever met in his life. Everything she was and everything she stood for was so charming, and he loved her far beyond words could express. She let out a small sigh as she shifted her position, her smile wider than ever before. She gently turned his arm over, gesturing to his clock, which was now on its final day._  
_"It's almost time, Alexander. Your next soulmate awaits you."_  
_Alexander looked at the ticking numbers, his lips pursed as he thought. There were mere hours left before his life would change course,_  
_And he was afraid._  
_"Eliza..." He began, pausing briefly as he tried to gather his thoughts. His eyes looked up from his arm, where they met her black ones. She looked at him expectantly, a small gleam in her eye, sensing he had a something to ask of her. "Do... You know who exactly it is? Do you... Have that kind of knowledge?"_  
_She was silent, and his eyes drifted to the black ground below them. He was about to retract his words, about to say that he understood if she couldn't tell him, but then--_

_"I do," she said softly. "I do have that knowledge." She took his hands once more, taking a deep breath as she looked deeply into his eyes. "I know how your life is supposed to play out from tomorrow and onwards into the future. I know who you are going to be with, and if this is your final soulmate or not. I know where you will meet. I know wether or not you will have children. This is all information I can tell you, if you so desire to hear it."_

_Alexander mentally debated with himself. He wanted to know. He wanted so badly to know, but part of him still wanted to find out for himself, and another part of him was too terrified to inquire. But then again, he negotiated, if I have a general idea, maybe the anxiety won't be as horrible. He shook his head to dispel the thoughts, lifting his head to look at her once more as he let out a sigh. His head was beginning to hurt, even if he was dreaming, and he couldn't make up his mind._  
_"What can you tell me?"_  
_"Whatever you desire to know, however, I will not disclose a name. You will find that out tomorrow."_  
_He nodded, showing he understood. He trembled slightly, suddenly very nervous about this entire situation. He practically had to pry the words from his own mouth._  
_"What... Is their gender? Is it another woman?"_  
_Eliza smiled warmly. "He is a male, and you, Alexander, are a bisexual man. He is your last soulmate."_  
_Alexander felt his breath hitch in his throat. If he was honest with himself, he wasn't expecting that answer. He wasn't shaken about being bisexual, no. Not at all._  
_He was shaken that this was his last soulmate. This was his last chance. If something were to go wrong, he was going to crumble to dust. He knew it._  
_He nodded firmly, taking in this new information._  
_"Our future..." he began. "What will come of it? Will I have a family?"_  
_Eliza almost glowed, her beautiful smile lighting up her entire face as her eyes sparkled._  
_"Oh, your future together is going to be a beautiful one. I am so glad I can be there to walk beside you and watch it unfold," she happily spoke. "You will indeed have a beautiful family one day."_

_Alexander smiled softly, pulling Eliza into his arms as he nestled his head into the crook of her neck, and he felt her thin arms wrap around his shoulders._

_"Thank you so much, my dear. For everything."_

 

This is the day. There are hours left before the clock strikes zero. 

"Alex! C'mon, up, up, up! We have to head to breakfast. Get up, lazy, I don't have all day!" He heard Lafayette call from the bathroom. Alexander groaned, shifting onto his side as he tugged his covers over his head, shutting his eyes once more. Peace and quiet while in the company of Lafayette was not a common occurrence, he found. The comfort from the warmth of his blanket was short-lived, however, as Lafayette padded over to him, yanking the covers back and exposing Alexander to the cold air of their room. He groaned unhappily in response, just barely awake. Lafayette rolled his eyes, chuckling as he shook Alexander's shoulder. "Let's go! We're going to the hospital today to see my friend John. The one who... Well, I'm sure you remember that story. He's a bit more stable," Lafayette continued as Alexander sleepily rose from his bed, lazily trudging over to his closet to get changed. "It's all still kind of up in the air... But, they're allowing visitors! I want you to meet him, too, even if he isn't exactly awake. So you're coming with me. Plus I... Can't be there alone." Alexander could tell by the tone of his voice that this really meant a lot to him. Who was he to say no? He threw on his t-shirt, stretching his back and arms as he followed Lafayette to the bathroom to brush his teeth while he brushed his hair.  
"That's fine. Of course I'll go with," Alexander said reassuringly, picking up his toothbrush. Lafayette smiled at him contentedly.  
"Merci. Now hurry up! It's waffle day, and I am not missing it!"  
\--  
Alexander soon found that he couldn't focus well enough to eat. He sat in his usual spot with Aaron and Lafayette, over by the large window, but he couldn't control himself as his eyes kept locking onto his clock. He tried to hide his shakiness, which wasn't easy, and he was certain he wasn't covering it very well. He had no idea that Aaron could tell from the moment Alexander sat down that something wasn't right with him. He could very easily sense the unease that was undoubtedly tearing through him with every passing moment, even with Lafayette's consistent excited rambling that always had him laughing. But today, he wasn't laughing. Aaron could only hold quiet for so long before he decided it was time to ask, his concern beginning to grow to be too much to contain.  
"Alexander. Is everything alright?"  
Alexander lightly shook his head, snapping himself out of his trance as his eyes shot up and over to Aaron. He smiled innocently, still visibly tense, as he nodded.  
"No, yeah, I'm alright."  
"That's not true. Now what IS the truth?"  
Alexander stared blankly at the table, his brain almost seeming to buffer. He wasn't very good at lying, he figured, noting how people were seeing right through him as of late. He moved his arm just a little bit before halting, unsure of his movements, and then moving it a little more before he fully extended his arm out. Lafayette and Aaron both glanced over his arm, not getting the point of it, until--

~~**[0000 d 09 h 42 m 33 s]** ~~

"Ah! It's almost time!" Lafayette burst, much too loudly for Alexander's comfort. Alexander quickly and sharply hushed him, trying to avoid the hard looks of all the sudden eyes that were all looking in his direction. He came so close to snapping at him, but he bit his tongue, instead taking a deep, shaky breath as he pushed his plate of barely-eaten food aside. Aaron placed a warm hand on Alexander's shoulder with a big smile.  
"Congratulations, Alexander. This is wonderful!"  
"I'm nervous..."  
"Don't be!" Lafayette interjected once more, stealing a piece of bacon off of Alexander's abandoned plate. "When I met my beautiful Adrienne, it was the happiest moment of my life! This is your time, mon ami," he said, "make the most of it."  
"He's right," Aaron added. "When I met Theodosia, I had never felt happier in my entire life. It was the beginning of the best years of my life. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be here getting help."  
Alexander offered a weak smile to his companions.  
They didn't truly understand.  
They didn't understand that Alexander's anxiety was derived from his inner darkest fear; a fear that history would repeat itself all over again, and that he would lose this mystery man just like he lost his beloved Eliza. He just wouldn't be able to go on alone in life. He wanted someone to hold, someone to love in every sense of the word. He wanted someone to raise children and grow old with, he wanted to be happy, and he was so afraid that if he lost this man sometime within the next 24 hours that he wouldn't be able to keep living anymore. He nodded anyway, trying to push his anxieties aside to push away their worry.  
"Thanks," he simply said, sitting back in his seat. He gazed out the window as Lafayette changed the topic.  
"So, Burr! Are you going to see John today? They're taking visitors. He's supposed to be doing a bit better."  
"I would, but Theo is coming to visit. I'll see him another day this week," he replied, taking the tiniest bite of his food, followed by a large gulp of water. Alexander tried to join the conversation so he wouldn't slip back into his own mind again.  
"So, what's his current status in the hospital? Is he awake yet?"  
"Well... They have him on life support and pain medication, so he mostly just sleeps. We're going to head out at around 5:30."  
"Got it."

\--

Alexander sat with Lafayette in the rather empty hospital waiting room, and he was panicking.  
Bad. 

He couldn't think properly as he dug his nails into his wrist, gripping it tightly with his eyes glued to his clock, which now read 8 minutes and counting. He was breathing rapidly, rocking back and forth in his chair as Lafayette and the nurse who brought them here tried to coach him through his unease. They used a wide variety of breathing exercises, visualization techniques, and activities to try and draw him out of his dissociative state, but nothing was working. He was so spaced out from the world, but at the same time he was over observant of every person that passed through the waiting room. The anticipation of meeting his soulmate grew to be heavily laced with terror. What was supposed to be the greatest moment of his life was now one of the worst, and all because he couldn't stay calm. His whole body was going numb, he felt faint, he worried for a moment he was going to vomit or even pass out as his stomach churned and the room spun around him. 5 minutes left.  
He hated being such a burden. Lafayette was here to see his friend who was recovering from a suicide attempt, yet instead he was here, concerned about Alexander, who was so afraid of meeting his soulmate that he couldn't keep his own grip on reality. _Pathetic._

He could hear a doctor, somewhere in the distance call for the visitors here to see John Laurens. Lafayette quickly mumbled something that Alexander couldn't fully understand before he went off, leaving Alexander with the struggling nurse. Alexander watched him briefly follow the doctor into a set of doors, and he suspected that they were going to see John. Alexander let out a heavy breath, his whole body trembling. 

His whole life was leading up to these kinds of moments, yet he couldn't handle it. He couldn't take the fear. If he was destined to meet his second soulmate in a hospital of all places, that HAS to be a bad thing. He was consumed with all the what if's about this man that he had yet to meet. What if he came in and was badly injured? What if he was having a heart attack or respiratory failure? _What if he died?_  
His shaking was growing violent, and it became very apparent that he wasn't going to be able to calm down any time soon. He was just going to have to suffer through it for a little while longer, until his clock ticked down and all would be over.  
He hated the waiting with a flaming passion. He was never a patient man. 

He heard the doctor's voice again, and he turned his head in the direction of the sound. This time, he was without Lafayette. He was speaking, seemingly to the nurse, and Alexander couldn't decipher the words, but before he knew it, the nurse was helping him stand up. She walked right beside him, holding him to give him stability as she guided him through the white hallways. She said something to him about going to John's room, but it went in one ear and out the other as Alexander braced himself. His eyes were locked onto his clock as it counted down from ten. 

Ten. He couldn't blink.  
Nine. His eyes were filled with utter fear.  
Eight. We're getting closer.  
Seven. He could feel his head pounding as he walked.  
Six. Almost there...  
Five. The doctor had gestured to a door down on the left of the hall.  
Four. He could hear people on the other side of the door! Could his soulmate be amongst them?  
Three. This is it. The moment he's been waiting for.  
Two. It's finally time. 

One...


	12. Disclaimer. Read before proceeding.

HUGE DISCLAIMER, HUGE WARNING, AND DETAILS ABOUT WHAT LIES AHEAD. IT IS VERY IMPORTANT THAT YOU READ THIS BEFORE PROCEEDING TO THE BAD ENDING IF YOU CHOOSE TO DO SO. 

As I'm sure you have seen in the tags or in previous chapters comments, this story has an optional ending: a good and a bad one. You get to choose how you want the story to go. 

You get to choose who lives, who dies, and who tells the story. 

The good ending is exactly what you expect. Alexander will meet his soulmate, and I will continue the story for as long as possible, detailing their journey together, their healing, and their life together outside of the hospital. Sounds nice, right?

This is where the warnings come into play.

The bad ending is one chapter, said and done, BUT. 

**It is not a pretty chapter. At all.**

It is very dark. It is gruesome. I have already begun drafting it out.   
It is a grief-filled, tragic chapter.   
If you are easily triggered or are faint hearted when it comes to potentially detailed descriptions of blood and injury, I highly advise against reading it. I took this chapter as an opportunity to do some "vent-writing," and since it is anger fuelled, it is, therefore, detailed. Intense. Your skin will crawl. You will writhe.   
There is an extreme mental breakdown. Full-scale madness type breakdown. Insanity.   
There is pain. Physical and mental.   
There is blatant suffering. Physical and mental.   
There is blood. Lots and lots of blood.   
There is death.

Both the bad ending and the first chapter of the good ending will be posted on the same day. Please be patient as I work through both of these endings over the next little while. I want them to be perfect. 

This is your warning; know what you can and can't handle before going into it.   
It's a disgusting chapter.


	13. The Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad ending.  
> This is your last warning.

The clock halted. 

~~**[0000 d 00 h 00 m 01s]** ~~

Alexander's heart stopped dead in its tracks as he dug his nails even harder into his skin, his eyes locked onto the number with alarming intensity. His face had gone completely pale, and he even stopped breathing for a moment. The nurse beside him tried to pry his hand off of his arm, but he held it in a death grip, his nails creating deep indentations in his skin. She was yelling something to the doctor that had accompanied them there, but Alexander's whole world was focused on his clock.  
Why isn't it counting?  
_Why isn't it counting?_  
No, no, no, no, no,  
Why is it stuck on one?  
What's happening?

The door creaked, slowly pushing open as Lafayette came through, his once cheerful face that Alexander had grown so used to seeing now grim and void of all emotion. He had been so excited to see John on his way over...  
Alexander could no longer process reality as the immediate realization hit him. He was unconsciously beginning to piece the facts together.  
His friend had died, hadn't he?  
He wanted to console Lafayette. He wanted to so badly, but he was so wrapped up in his own predicament that he was rapidly spiraling out of control. The stress was building up and up like blocks and it was so close to toppling over. 

"So, um... John. He..." Lafayette paused and cleared his throat, very obviously fighting back his tears. "It's... It's irreversible brain damage. He was hanging for too long, and... They just took him off of life support." Lafayette bowed his head and stared at the tiles on the floor, softly hiccuping as the tears began to flow. His hands flung up to cover his face. He was ashamed to be seen crying in public. 

Alexander wished in that moment that he had the strength to run. He wished he could just summon the god Hermes, absorb his powers, and bolt. If what he was thinking was true, he wouldn't be able to live with himself another moment.  
He was not prepared to do this again.  
Lafayette continued to speak about his late friend, but it was getting to be too hard to process his words, and seeing him sob was making all of this even harder to handle. Alexander was too far gone from the world to be bothered to listen. He felt so selfish that he only cared about himself in that instant. It made the urges grow stronger, the itch crawling under his skin, leaving burning trails in its wake. He unconsciously stepped past Lafayette and reached for the handle of the door, pushing hard, the door flying open into the room to reveal a few stunned doctors and nurses who were still shutting down machines. They were talking to him, most definitely asking him to leave, and Alexander heard Lafayette whispering behind him, but he simply walked past them and straight over to the unfamiliar man who lay unmoving on the bed. Alexander took a moment to observe him. 

He had beautiful tan skin with a smattering of hundreds of freckles dotting across his face. His hair was dark and his curls spiraled about him in wild ringlets. His unique face was unnaturally pale, almost ashen, and he wasn't breathing. Alexander couldn't see his eyes.  
He felt a sudden, unmistakable surge of love for this strange man spark up and slowly begin to burn within his chest, somewhere deep amongst the pain. He gritted his teeth harshly as he took in the mans features. Alexander knew he loved him already, but that wasn't enough. It was too late for that. Love was of no assistance here. He inspected the white hospital bracelet that was wrapped loosely around the man's wrist, reading the words printed upon it, hoping, _praying_ that by some chance this was someone else. If this _was_ really John, and if John _was_ his soulmate, then Alexander's walls would  
all  
come  
crashing  
down. 

He took a deep breath and let his eyes scan over the band.  
Don't let this be true.  
_Don't._

**|LAURENS, JOHN**  
**|DOB: OCTOBER 28, 1986**  
**|MALE, 31 YRS**

"Alexander... What are you doing?" He heard Lafayette call. He disregarded him, and instead lifted John's opposite, limp arm, revealing his frozen clock. Alexander put his own shaking arm next to John's so their clocks lined up perfectly.  
He didn't want to read it. He was so afraid to see it. The fear shook him to his very core, pulsing through every vein in his body. He slowly opened his eyes, revealing everything he didn't want to be true as just that. 

**[0000 d 00 h 00 m 01s]**  
~~**[0000 d 00 h 00 m 01s]** ~~

His brain couldn't conjure up a single word to describe the whirlwind of feelings that began to suffocate him as he completely zoned out. Even Lafayette, the bubbly ray of sunshine grew speechless as he saw their matching clocks. 

Alexander felt himself slip a little further into madness with every agonizing second that passed. The room was silent.  
He was given this second chance.  
He was given the chance to have another shot at love. At having a soulmate.  
And even he slipped away from Alexander, just like Eliza did,  
except there was  
one  
extreme  
difference  
between the two. 

Eliza's death wasn't intentional. It was an accident.  
John's death _was_ intentional. It was the farthest thing from an accident. 

Eliza's car got hit by a reckless driver.  
_She_ didn't steer into the other car.  
_She_ didn't go above the speed limit.  
_She_ didn't choose to get injured. 

But John did. 

_He_ was the one who hid a belt in his room.  
_He_ was the one who tied it around his neck.  
_He_ was the one who stepped off of the surface he stood upon.  
_He_ was the one who hanged _himself._

And somehow, in some way... That revelation hurt even more than Eliza's accident did. 

Alexander grew too weak to support his weight and collapsed onto the ground as the thought invaded his brain. A horrible, twisted, intrusive thought that ravaged his poor, broken mind without any mercy.  
Thoughts and visuals of John,  
suffering in his room,  
suffocating,  
his neck in such excruciating pain and his windpipe being crushed as he started to slip into blackness, the tears rushing down his face as he thought to himself that he _just can't live like this anymore._  
And no one was there to stop him sooner. No nurse. No roommate.  
He was alone.  
In his final days, he was completely and utterly alone.  
Alexander could feel tears streaming down his face, he could feel the sharp throb in his temple, and he could hear someone yelling, crying, shouting in pure agony. It didn't truly hit him until minutes later that _he_ was the one screaming. Screaming out to the universe, to whatever god would listen to him as he hopelessly begged for John to come back, his hands tightly gripping the thin blanket that was covering half of John's now lifeless body.  
He wasn't aware that these were the things he was saying, however. He couldn't make out his own words. He wasn't truly in the moment enough to hear himself, almost as if he had gone temporarily deaf. His cries were all mindless babbling. 

He felt a sudden surge of people grabbing him.  
They were clearly trying to restrain him.  
The doctors and nurses were trying their best to hold him still as he became consumed by sheer insanity. Nothing in the world mattered to him anymore. Both of his soulmates had tragically been taken moments before he ever met either of them, and they were all he ever had to look forward to. He was destined to live a tortured life, alone, but... Why?  
Why stay alive when he had nothing?

\--

Lafayette and Alexander had both been taken back to Hope Haven after they were both deemed stable enough to leave. Unsurprisingly, it had taken Alexander much longer to come to, though he never fully came back in the first place. They had walked in together in a depressed silence, not having said a single word to either each other or medical staff in the past 15 minutes or so. Alexander wanted to try and talk to Lafayette, he wanted to offer some form of support, he wanted to comfort him and be a decent friend, but he just didn't have the strength. His throat was closing, and he couldn't will the words to come no matter how hard he tried. There was no amount of consoling in the world that would change their situation.  
John was gone, and there was nothing that either could do to get him back. No amount of prayers or pleading could fix this. 

They had passed by Aaron on their way in, who was sitting and chatting with his wife, Theodosia, who had came in to visit earlier in the afternoon. They were smiling, enjoying each other's company as they shared little kisses and held each other's hands. They relished each other's company. 

Alexander felt anger boil within him at the sight as he scoffed. It was disgusting. 

Aaron had spotted them walking in, saying something, most likely a greeting, that Alexander didn't care to listen to. Lafayette had weakly waved him over, stopping to explain the situation. Alexander, however, kept walking.  
But the walk turned into jog, and then, soon enough, the jog had turned into a run. 

He knew what he was going to do, and this time, he wasn't going to fail. 

He closed the door to his room, walking over to his mattress with a cold, dead expression plastered on his face as he dug underneath it for his best friend, the razor blade. He then stepped over to the small white desk in the center of the room, where he would often sit to read or write in his spare time. He pulled a blank piece of paper out of the drawer along with a blue pen, and he scrawled his message sloppily onto the paper. He didn't have much time to write a proper note before Lafayette came back, so he decided to keep it short. 

 

_"Laf,_

_Don't try to go into the bathroom. Get a nurse and tell them there's been a suicide._  
_Let them handle the blood. I don't want you to see my body or the mess I made._

_Thank you for everything, but I can't keep doing this anymore._

_I hope nothing but the best for you. You're a good man."_

 

He skimmed over his note before placing it in the center of the room on the floor, guaranteeing that Lafayette will find it immediately. Alexander grabbed the wooden chair from the desk, dragging it with him, silent tears falling as he walked into the bathroom and blocked the handle with the chair, as the doors did not have locks. He made sure that there was no way it would budge before he continued his plan. 

He turned on the shower. May as well make this an easier clean up.  
He didn't bother to remove his clothes. A t-shirt would be more than enough. 

He stepped in, letting the lukewarm water hit the skin of his arms as it began to soak into the rest of his clothing, the fabric becoming heavy.  
His expression was still stone solid.  
He was void. Emotionless.  
Nothing mattered.  
Nothing. 

He tilted his head upwards, looking at the beige ceiling, working up the courage to do it.  
_Go on,_ his inner voice chimed. _It's right within your reach. Just end it all. It's that easy._  
He took his razor, the object he had grown so used to handling, and lined it right up on his wrist as he pressed in harder than he ever had before, the sharp metal piercing much too deep into his flesh. He dragged the blade, pressing obscenely hard, down the length of his forearm; slow, _agonizingly_ slow, slicing himself open inch by inch. He remained stoic, aside from a twitch and his hard, ragged breaths. He was quite literally tearing himself apart, and he deserved the pain. He deserved every second of it. He switched hands, his fingers trembling, roughly stabbing the blade into his opposite arm with a yelp. He grunted, pushing through the pain as he repeated his actions, slitting his arm vertically, hitting his artery.  
Just as planned.  
It was just like before. Except this time, he was going to make sure he succeeded.  
He dropped the blade, hearing the small clank on the tile, and he panted as he looked down to observe his gruesome work.  
The sight made him feel slightly nauseated, and he groaned as his stomach lurched. It looked absolutely disgusting, like something out of a horror film. He began to feel a little dizzy. His gashes were gaping wide; He could see the fat, the muscle, he could even see the pulse in his arm as his blood poured out, down his arms, into the water which was quickly beginning to run solid red. There was something oddly satisfying about it to him.  
Perhaps it was the satisfaction from knowing he was going to die.  
He slid his back down the wall, sitting on the cold tile with his stinging arms limp at his side, the water only hitting the right side of his body. 

_Just a few more minutes, Alex._

It'll be over soon. 

He heard Lafayette call for him from outside, as he had just now entered the room. It then grew briefly silent, and Alexander figured that he had found his letter and was currently reading it over. He smiled sadly, tilting his head back up towards the ceiling as he suddenly heard a rapid, violent banging on the door. 

If he talks, he gets caught. If he gets caught, it's back on suicide watch. 

_Stay quiet, Alexander. Stay quiet. I know, I know it hurts._

Lafayette, receiving no response, was utterly distraught. He held the paper in his hands, shaking, as he began to helplessly sob. First John, now Alexander... Everyone was losing their battles, and he didn't know how much longer he could handle all these casualties. Everyone he had come to care about was taking their own lives, and he was always too late to stop it. It was heartbreaking.  
He bolted into the hallway, silently hoping that he wasn't too late and that Alexander was still in there, and still alive. He saw, slightly down the hall, Angelica, who was writing something down on a clipboard just outside one of the other patient rooms.  
He hated to do this to her...  
He stumbled, nearly tripping as he rushed to her with tears pouring down his face, calling her for help. She jumped, clearly startled, and spun around instantly, looking at him with the utmost concern in her big brown eyes. Something was wrong.  
Very wrong.  
"Gilbert! What is it?! What's the matter?"  
"Alex! I-It's Alex!" He cried. He felt like he was choking, barely able to speak. Angelica creased her brow, trembling ever so slightly as Lafayette tried to calm himself down. Angelica could feel her heart fill with dread. She knew of his suicidal state, she knew of his self harm and his depression. He had found it within himself to trust her with this deeply personal information, and part of her felt like it had something to do with this. She hoped that her intuition was wrong.  
"What about Alex? Did something happen to him? Gil, I need you to talk to me! Is he okay?"  
Lafayette couldn't bring himself to speak. He couldn't tell her. He knew what he meant to her, and he knew he probably should just say it, but he just didn't have it in his heart to break the news. He simply handed her the note as panic began to settle in. He was gasping for air, and his face began to go numb as he watched her eyes skim over the paper. 

Angelica's clipboard fell straight to the ground as she bolted down the hall. 

 

Alexander couldn't hold on to life much longer. He was beginning to go into shock once again, his heartbeat and breathing growing rapidly out of control, his ears rung and his body felt ice cold. His vision was indistinct, blackness edging at his sight for what he hoped was the last time. He took in his surroundings, the last things he would ever see, as he remained slumped on the floor against the wall, covered in his own blood while he listened to the pounding on the door continue. The chair barricading it made a horrid screech at the failed attempt to kick the door in from the outside. He weakly tilted his head toward the direction of the door at the sound of Angelica's panicked cries as she called out for him. 

Oh, Angelica...  
Please don't look... 

Alexander was losing far too much blood for his body to keep functioning. His organs were starting to fail him.  
This was it.  
He smiled painfully to himself as he finally slipped away, the world around him fading to nothing as he shakily took his last breath, his heart coming to a slow halt. 

His body slouched forward, slowly, his head drooping as every sign of life was stripped away from his being. 

 

 

Lafayette had been waiting impatiently, sitting on his bed as a number of police officers had finally broken in the door, forcing their way in after several minutes of failed attempts.  
The only thing he could see was the blood on the floor, the red water, and Alexander's lifeless body slumped against the wall. His eyes caught one look at his mutilated arms, and he screwed his eyes shut, turning away from the scene.  
That sight was quickly followed by Angelica's horrified scream. 

 

He wished he hadn't ever looked.


	14. The Start of something Wonderful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beginning of the good ending.

The doctor had held the door open for Alexander and the nurse that accompanied him, and Alexander intently watched as his clock struck zero. This was it. He was somewhere in there. Alexander looked up, his eyes slowly glancing about the room when they suddenly met a new pair that were looking right back at him. He almost didn't notice as Lafayette turned and waved Alexander closer, very excited to finally see his friend after so much time. He was far beyond eager to introduce them to one another. "Mon ami! Come, come! John woke up this morning, come meet him!" Alexander cautiously stepped closer, still trembling from his anxiety, and the man in question waved at him with a shy smile. He felt his heart soar in that very moment, but he still had to be sure.   
"H-Hello. I'm... I'm Alexander. Um, I hate to ask such a sudden question, but, uh... Did your clock--"  
"Strike zero?" John finished. His voice has the slightest trace of a southern drawl, and his gorgeous smile lit up his face as he nodded, holding up his arm and showing his wrist. "It just did."  
Alexander briefly took a moment to observe John's features; his warm tan skin, his wild unruly hair, the freckles that delicately dotted across his nose and sun kissed cheeks. He was absolutely beautiful. Alexander couldn't stop the smile and slight flush that graced his features as he stepped a little closer to John, who gently reached out and took his hand, intertwining their fingers together. His touch sent sparks through Alexander's body.   
This was the moment he had been waiting for.   
John could feel Alexander's hand shake, and he pouted, suddenly a little concerned for him.   
"Oh, Alexander, what's the matter? You're trembling."   
"I just, um... I guess I was just nervous to meet you," he admitted, looking down at his shoes in mild embarrassment. John on the other hand thought it was absolutely endearing, trying to hold back an 'aww.'  
"Wait... Mon dieu, are you two... Soulmates?"   
John chuckled a little sleepily.   
Leave it to Lafayette to be the oblivious one.   
"Yes, Laf. Yes," John answered, squeezing Alexander's hand gently. "It seems we are."  
Alexander could listen to his voice forever, and he couldn't be happier that it was his fate to do just that.   
Lafayette smiled wide, wider than ever before at the news. "Oh, this is wonderful! I am so honored to have been the one to introduce you. Pardon me, I'll leave you two alone, I'll let you get acquainted!" He giddily spoke, trotting towards the door. He turned, sparing one last excited glance. "Congratulations!" he cheered before shutting the door, leaving the two newly-discovered soulmates alone with one another. They gazed into each others eyes contentedly for a moment before Alexander stopped and pulled up a chair to John's beside. He took a deep breath as he tried to shake off his remaining nerves. He just couldn't believe this was finally happening.  
"How are you feeling? Laf... Laf told me about the incident." Alexander asked. John looked away for a moment, almost wincing a little bit while the memories flooded his mind. He tried to push the unease aside, squeezing Alexander's hand again as it seemed to comfort him. He forced a smile on his face, trying to cover up the fact that he was still, mentally if not physically, in quite a bit of pain.   
"I'm alright. Physically, at least..." he explained. Alexander felt the swarm of sadness hit him as he listened intently. "I wasn't in the right state of mind. I don't know what happened to make me do such a thing, I felt like I had to, but... I'm just glad to still be here." He paused, tilting his head to look at Alexander, a small sparkle in his eyes. "I'm glad to be here with _you."_

Alexander couldn't hold back anymore. 

Everything he was feeling in this very instant was so amazingly intense. His heart was beating faster, his stomach filled with butterflies, and all because of the gorgeous man that lay right before him. He held their gaze for but a moment longer before leaning in, pressing their lips together in a sweet, slow, loving kiss. John welcomed it with a great enthusiasm. Everything about it felt right. It was also worth mentioning that this was Alexander's first kiss, and he was more than happy to share it with John. They parted slowly, a warm buzz engulfing the both of them as they relished in each other's affection. Alexander hadn't felt this peaceful in almost four years. 

He never wanted to lose this, and he would do everything within his power to keep it this way. 

John giggled a little bit, a sound that made Alexander's heart swell, and he played with Alexander's long strands of hair for a moment. "I don't know if it's too early to say this, because, well... You're my first soulmate," John said quietly, "but... God, I love you. I can feel it already. Truly, I can."  
"I love you too. More than you know." They were just moments away from sharing another sweet kiss when there was a soft knock at the door. The door creaked open and in stepped the doctor from before, along with Lafayette and the nurse. Obviously Lafayette had told them the circumstances, as they all held a look of certain knowing on their faces. The doctor stepped off to the side, flipping through some notes as he cleared his throat. "Alright," he began, his eyes skimming over the words. "Well, Mr. Laurens, first off; Congratulations." He said with a firm smile, and John politely returned it with a small thanks. The doctor continued. "Not only a congratulations on meeting your soulmate, but also because you are all set to head on back to Hope Haven tomorrow. You're a trooper, son, you really are. It's a miracle you're still alive. Hopefully now that you have your soulmate by your side, your healing process will speed up drastically."  
"It will. I know it," John said genuinely. 

He was determined to get better, and now that he had found Alexander, he knew that it would be easier. 

Alexander was ready to provide all the love and support in the universe, and John was willing to do the exact same for him.


	15. UPDATE

Alright guys, I know I said a few chapters ago that updates may take a bit longer, and then I proceeded to write and upload three full chapters directly after that.  
Now, here is where I say that I am _officially_ going to be taking a break from writing. 

**DO NOT PANIC, I'M COMING BACK, BUT LET ME EXPLAIN!!**

In 13 days, I leave for New York. I'd really like to just take the time to see some things and enjoy myself there, because school will be back before you know it, and I've wanted to see NYC for quite some time now. I want to get the full experience of the city and have fun. And, in some other news;

I am very, very lucky and far beyond excited to share that my amazing, kind-hearted, wonderful father surprised me yesterday night at work with 2 orchestra seats to Hamilton on Broadway, which I am greatly anticipating. Those tickets were the furthest thing from cheap, and my father sacrificed nearly $2,000 to do this for me on top of the rest of the expenses we're already paying for just to stay in the city for 5 days. We are not by any means a rich family. This was a huge sacrifice for my father to make, and I am so grateful that he did this for me. I don't want my writing to become like a job and reach the point where I stay alone in the hotel room just to finish a chapter so my readers don't grow impatient. I love you all, very much, and your support and feedback means the world to me and I cannot express my surprise and gratitude for all the attention and praise that this story has been receiving lately. 

I know one of you is probably thinking, "but you're a speed writer! You have 13 days to spare before New York, so surely you could knock out a few chapters before then!" And that's true, I probably could if I forced myself to. But if I did that, I'd be putting out sloppy, dull, poorly-written chapters that would not at all be up to my own personal standards. I refuse to put out work that I am not satisfied with under any circumstance. 

What you have to understand is this: I, like all of you, am a human being. I'm 17 years old. I have a job to go to several times a week for several hours a day. I have online school courses to finish before a certain deadline. I have my own personal studies to pursue so I can expand my knowledge and push myself further towards being a History teacher or a Park Ranger one day. 

My work and my education are more important than my writing, no matter how much I love doing it. 

So, I conclude this update by saying that I _officially_ will not begin writing again until I return from New York, which is **August 4th.**

Thank you all so very much for following Ten Days And Counting. It's been quite a ride. Thank you for standing beside me through it all and watching this story unfold. 

I run an Instagram where I document my historical adventures in my home state of Pennsylvania. If you are interested in following me there and eventually seeing my posts about historic spots I visit in New York, head over to @Adieu.Publius. I do not have a tumblr or a public snapchat. 

Thank you all again, so much.  
Until August 4th!

_Lauren_


	16. Distract me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello I am back from NYC! It was wonderful, Hamilton was amazing, AND I MET ANDREW CHAPPELLE AAAAAAAH
> 
> anyways TRIGGER WARNING AS FUCK FOR THIS CHAPTER  
> TALKS OF PHYSICAL ABUSE, HALLICINATIONS, HOMICIDE, AND THE DEATH OF A PARENT

Alexander had been sitting in the waiting room of Hope Haven for near 3 hours, despite the consistent pleas from Lafayette to come back to their room. His eyes stayed glued to the door at all times, watching countless strangers go in and out, but not one of them was John. He was supposed to come back today, and Alexander's excitement and slight impatience made his stomach leap and twist with every passing moment. John had clouded his mind since their meeting yesterday, and all he wanted to do, more than anything, was see him again. He stared at the cold tile floors as thoughts of that curly-haired beauty began swarming around his mind over and over again.  
He just wanted to spend time with him.  
If they were destined to be, then he wanted to know everything.

A gentle hand grasped Alexander's shoulder for what must have been the tenth time that day, pulling him out of his thoughts. Lafayette was so incredibly persistent, wasn't he? He just wanted to be left alone to wait, couldn't he understand that? Alexander let out a small sigh of frustration.  
"Laf, please, I told you. I'm not going anywhere until John gets here."  
The voice that responded made his heart nearly burst from his ribcage.  
"Well, lucky you, I'm not Laf." John smiled in amusement.  
Alexander turned around to face him. There was a medium sized bag beside him on the ground, surely meaning that he had just arrived. Alexander must have been too lost in his own world to notice him coming in, and he mentally scolded himself for spacing out. John however didn't seem to mind as he pulled Alexander up from his chair, wrapping his arms tightly around him. Their embrace was much too short, for Alexander at least, but it was sweet and welcoming and it made his whole body feel so warm and fuzzy. Alexander rushed to pick up John's bag for him, stumbling slightly, just barely beating him to it. John stifled a laugh at his sudden reaction.  
"Woah, what's the matter? You okay?"  
"What? Can't I be a gentleman?" Alexander retorted jokingly. They shared a laugh, simply enjoying one another's company for even a second. John noticed a nurse smiling sweetly at the two of them and their little display.  
This was going to blossom into something beautiful. They both knew it.  
Everyone knew it just by looking at them. 

Alexander took John's hand with his free one, carrying his bag in the other as they began to walk towards the rooms.  
"Which room are you in?"  
"247," Alexander replied. "I'm Laf's roommate."  
"God help you," John muttered under his breath with a coy grin. Alexander tried to ignore the burning in his face. "Laf's a handful. He's a good guy, but I mean, how the hell can someone have that much energy around the clock?"  
"Oh, yeah, I totally understand. My first day here he woke me up with loud music and mediocre singing."  
John couldn't contain his laughter. That sweet sound... Alexander could listen to it forever. They continued walking in a comfortable silence, hand in hand, and John led Alexander off towards his room: 285, just a little ways away. They both stepped in, and Alexander set the duffle bag at the foot of the lone bed along the edge of the mostly- empty room. His brow creased slightly in confusion.  
"You don't have a roommate?"  
"No," John said with a slight grimace. "I never have. I've been here about a month, and they just... Never roomed me with anyone. I don't know. It..." He paused, taking a breath as he sat down on the small bed. "It probably has to do with my psychosis." Alexander's eyes widened slightly in shock at the information. John instantly regretted speaking and shook his head slightly, huffing. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that... I just never get it off my chest. Pretend I-"  
"No, no!" Alexander jutted in, cutting him off. "Please. Tell me."  
John looked at him, a little hint of disbelief at Alexander's willingness. Nonetheless, John continued with a little bit of difficulty. He refused to make eye contact with Alexander, instead opting to stare at the trees just beyond the window. "I just... I can't tell what's real and what's just in my head. I get so paranoid, and sometimes I see this... This man, I guess. He calls himself the Engineer. He looks to me like some sort of soldier, like an army soldier, but... His face and arms are pitch black. He has no discernible features, except for a mouth, and he tells me to... Do things. He hits me. He scratches me. He stalks me." John couldn't control the tears that welled in his eyes and yet still he forced himself to go on. The paranoia was beginning to wash over him, and Alexander began to feel overprotective and very on edge. He wrapped his arms tightly around John, afraid of letting go. He wanted to protect him.  
John's voice was so small and afraid.  
"I lied to you yesterday. About not knowing why. He told me to do it, Alex..."  
"The Engineer?"  
"Yes..."  
"What did he tell you to do?"  
_"He told me to kill myself."_  
Alexander tightened his grip on John, who curled into him instantly. Sobs racked his body as he clung to Alexander, his eyes screwed tightly shut to block out the world around him. 

 

This had started early on as a child.

 

John's father was a terrible, vile, disgusting man.  
He remembers the day he saw his first hallucination. He was 9 years old. 

John's father had come home drunk and very, very angry. He remembers his father going into the kitchen where his mother was, and they began to argue. What about? He couldn't remember. He just remembers the screaming, their voices growing in pitch, and then watching from the living room as his mother was beaten. Blood splattered from her mouth as she coughed, collapsing to the ground as he unleashed hell upon her. John had told his younger siblings to hide and told his sister Martha to quickly call 911 with the phone in their parents room. He remembers rushing into the kitchen, yelling, begging for his father to stop, to leave his mother alone.  
But he was relentless. He turned his focus to John, and he remembers seeing, for just a moment, his mother laying unmoving on the kitchen floor. 

The time in between being beaten and being taken to the hospital was a blur. 

But he remembers, clear as day, when he had been taken inside the ambulance. _That_ was when he first remembers it starting. It grew in frequency as he got older. 

He saw a creature hanging on the ceiling. It was spider like, and giant, with human eyes. Large, bulging human eyes. They stared at him menacingly, and the creature hissed.  
"You didn't save her. You're a failure," it sang, its voice shrill and demonic. He had clenched his eyes shut, but he couldn't avoid its voice. He could feel its long, sharp legs scratching at his face, his arms as it tormented him. "Pathetic. I'm going to hurt you," it threatened, "I'm going to _kill you."_

They had always told him it was just PTSD, but then the PTSD turned to psychosis, and now it landed him here.  
It just got worse with the years.  
That creature had stopped showing itself at around 13. The Engineer had began appearing at around 16, and he hasn't gone away since. 

 

John gasped as he suddenly came back to his senses, his whole body trembling as he remembered where he was. He had spaced out as the flashbacks savagely forced their way into his mind. He pulled away from Alexander in a flash, feeling eyes on him, and he just knew that the Engineer was coming to torment him. His words came out at the speed of light as he tried to calm himself from his bout of panic.  
He needed a distraction, or else the hallucinations would come back.  
He could feel the dread dawning on him.  
Quick, John.  
He's coming. 

He lunged forwards, pushing Alexander back onto the bed and climbing onto the stunned man's lap.  
"Take me," he blurted out.  
Alexander looked at him in sheer confusion.  
Was he talking about...?  
"What? What do y-"  
He was cut off by John's lips crashing harshly onto his own. He kissed him back, but was still incredibly lost. What was going on here? This was such a dramatic change in character, and Alexander was beginning to feel mildly overwhelmed. John pulled away from the kiss once the urge for air was too great to ignore.  
"I know, I know it's so soon. Just take me!" He urged, lifting his shirt over his head in an inexplicable hurry. "Now!"  
"John, I-"  
"Alexander, _please!"_ he begged, his eyes still glistening from the tears. Alexander's own eyes immediately softened, and he placed a gentle hand on John's hip. "I need you to distract me before I start to slip," John whispered. "If you're making love to me, then I won't focus on the Engineer... He's here. Please, Alex! I'm afraid," he softly cried. "I know, it's a bit extreme for a distraction, but there's nowhere I can go. He follows me. There's nothing else I can do that will completely take my attention." He let out a shaky breath as he leaned down, kissing Alexander once more, gently.  
"Besides... I want to. You're my soulmate. It's right, isn't it?"

Alexander felt a sharp pang of guilt in his chest.  
He couldn't find it within himself to say no to John.  
He didn't want to put him through the pain of being traumatized by his hallucinations.

He grabbed at John's waist as he pulled him in for a passionate kiss, bringing their bodies closer together. 

He was in for quite a night, now, wasn't he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna write the smut do not fear


	17. Take a Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is kinda short but I think it turned out ok so here you go,,

Alexander had a sickly feeling rising in his stomach as he stared up at the ceiling, the memories of last night flooding back into his mind. He glanced over at the sleeping man beside him, watching his chest slowly rise and fall with every breath. Alexander felt strangely guilty, despite John's consistent claims that he wanted it. Alexander just wasn't exactly sure if that was true.  
It was both of their first times.  
They were both slow and overly-cautious in their movements, not quite sure what felt good and what didn't. There was a lot of checking in, a lot of questions, a lot of firsts. Alexander tried to turn off his brain and enjoy it, but something wasn't right. He just couldn't quite place what. 

As he had hovered over John, his movements slow and careful, he looked down at the other man, taking him in. John's soft sighs and moans _would_ have given off the idea that he was content, but Alexander could tell his sparkling eyes were hiding fear.  
He was scared, and it broke his heart.  
It was too soon, and not the right circumstance to be doing this.  
Sex _is_ a very intimate act after all. 

John had been all over him, and Alexander caved. They had just barely escaped getting caught by a passing nurse. Alexander should have snuck back to his room afterwards before the doors locked, but John had begged him to stay.  
He didn't have the heart to just abandon him like that. 

John was just so... Helpless.  
How was he supposed to say no? 

Alexander slowly rose from the bed, trying to the best of his ability not to wake John up. He collected his clothing up from the ground and began to redress himself. Lafayette was probably worried about him, considering the fact that Alexander didn't tell him that he wouldn't be coming back to the room. It's not like Alexander had anticipated this! He couldn't have given any warning, so he could only hope that he could come up with some convincing lie to explain his absence without arousing suspicion. 

Alexander padded over to the door, opening it very, very slowly. He took one final glance at John before quickly stepping into the much-too-bright lights of the hallway, making him squint his eyes quite a bit. Luckily, there were no nurses stationed in the hallway at the moment, so Alexander began to powerwalk back to his room. 

Now.  
What on earth would he tell Lafayette?

I was feeling sick? I was getting a checkup? I fell asleep in the waiting room? None of these were believable.  
He gently cracked the door to his room open, stepping inside, when-

"Alex! Mon Dieu, where on earth were you?" Lafayette exclaimed, hopping off of his bed in a flash. "I was worried sick! One minute you're in the waiting area, then suddenly it's lights out and you never came back!"  
Damn it. Alexander was hoping he would've been asleep...  
Quick, Hamilton! Lie!  
"I, um... John didn't want to be alone. I stayed with him for the night, that's all."  
A silence ensued. Lafayette simply observed him, not saying a word. There was a sparkle in his eye, a glimmer of deviance, and Alexander began to feel uneasy. Why wasn't he talking? Had he said something wrong?  
"You're such a bad liar," Lafayette spoke. Alexander's heart began to pound as he began to feel anxious.  
"What... Do you mean?"  
"Alex, mon ami..." He began, trying to desperately fight back his laughter, "There are love bites on your neck. You think I can't see them?"  
Alexander gasped, his hand quickly flying up to cover the bruises as his face flushed a rosy pink. _Damn it, John!_ He had no idea that he had left any marks! He felt like a fool for not looking in the mirror before leaving... How careless!  
"T-That's not--What?! It's--I mean, they aren't hickies!" He stuttered. He really wasn't helping his own case. His brain told him to be quiet, but he just couldn't seem to stop talking. "I-I just got bruised! What makes you think they're... No, no! Never!"  
Lafayette just smirked knowingly.  
"Oh, save it, Alexander. You can't hide it from me!" He chuckled. Alexander could feel himself burning from the embarrassment. So much for lying. "So?! How was it?" Lafayette pressed. "Was it good? Did you have fun?"  
There he goes with the too-personal questions again... Alexander just decided to suck it up and go along. No point in trying to deny it. He winced a little bit at the thought of last night.  
"Um... Yeah, sure." He replied, though there was something a little off about his tone. This, too, didn't go unnoticed. Lafayette was incredibly observant.  
"Hm? Is something wrong?"  
"No. I'm... I'm fine."  
"Alex. You should realize by now that I can see right through you." He wasn't wrong. "Did something happen? Is everything okay with you two?"  
It was quiet for a second. Just a brief moment, before the hurricane began.  
"It's just not right, Laf." That was all Alexander could manage in that moment. A quiet whisper. It wasn't right.  
"What's not? Alex, you know you can trust me. You can tell me anything. I just want to h--"  
"He wanted it," Alexander rushed. He had so much he wanted to say, but he just didn't know how to say it. "God, Laf, he _begged_ for it, but it... Wasn't for the right reasons. It wasn't out of love like it should be..." He tried to explain as best as he could. If he was honest, he was still trying to piece it together himself. "It was a distraction for him. It took him out of the moment, into a world where his psychosis couldn't affect him. I just couldn't say no and leave him to suffer." He turned, his eyes welling with tears as he looked into Lafayette's. "I don't want to be doing such an intimate thing out if pity, Laf. I feel so guilty... It's like he's trying to use sex as a distraction, and it isn't healthy. Not for him, and not for me, either. That look in his eye... I know he'll try and do it again. I just don't know how to tell him that it's not right without upsetting him. I feel so weird..." Alexander wasn't sure if he had gotten his point across well enough, but to Lafayette it made perfect sense. He felt bad for Alexander. He understood that to him, this was incredibly important, and he was right. It wasn't healthy to cover up serious issues with something like this. John's psychosis had been getting bad, and he had just returned from the hospital after a failed attempt at suicide. John needed to get serious help, and brushing his problems off to the side and over-indulging in desire wasn't going to fix it. Lafayette pulled Alexander into a reassuring hug, and the smaller man curled into his side.  
"Aw, please don't be upset, mon ami. I'll talk to him if you want me to. I can tell what this means to you, and I want to help. For your sake _and_ for John's."  
"I don't know, Laf. I feel like I should be the one to tell him. God, I don't know why I feel so bad..."  
"Shh," he cooed, gently stroking Alexander's hair. "Take a breath. I'll help you figure something out. Do you trust me?"  
"Of course I do."  
"Good. Just rest up a bit for now. I'll wake you when it's time for group today."


	18. NOT A CHAPTER SORRY

YIKES HELLO YOU GUYS! I'm so sorry this has become a dead fic I just got completely discouraged and had a lot of personal shit going on. I've also--since September-- been working on a MASSIVE 1920s/1930s AU (not going to post it tho). Just here to let you know that I am not dead and neither is my account! It is not likely however that I will be finishing this story. I'll just tell you this:

Alex and John live a very happy life together. They both are discharged from Hope Haven, have a wonderful little wedding, and eventually have children through surrogates. They are wonderful fathers and a beautiful couple and will always be there for each other. Eliza still speaks to Alex through his dream world. John's mental health steadily improves. Alexander stops hurting himself, but John and Eliza are always there to help him when he starts to slip. Alex goes back to his teaching job, and Jefferson has been fired after viewing some security footage from the day he harrassed Alex in the hall. Both Alex and John seek therapy and they get better everyday. Aaron was discharged and lives happily with Theodosia, who is pregnant with their first child. Lafayette has finally returned to his wife and they move back to France, living a quiet yet content life in Montmartre. Their lives are good. Their suffering is over. 

Thank you all for reading this once again. Means a lot. Have a wonderful day!!


End file.
